The Tale of the Spicer
by Little Kage
Summary: Sicarius Tenebra is a spice merchant, and a succesfull one as well. But everything might not be as they seem, and soon dark things are discovered about Sicarius past. At the same time, an evil cult starts to reform after their defeat, seeking to enslave Tamriel. Who can be trusted? And most importantly, what is the true story of Sicarius Tenebra?
1. Chapter 1

Coins tingled as they changed owners, and eager hands traded payment for goods. It was a lovely morn in the market district of the Imperial City. Traders had come from all over Cyrodiil, and even silk traders from Elsweyr could be seen in their robes and braids of the Khajiit race. From the vast forests of Valenwood came the wood elves, trading handcrafted wood items, and here and there a Redguard could be seen, showing off their fine weapons and armours for sale. Among them all was an Imperial trader who went by the name of Sicarius Tenebra. Highly skilled in the arts of mercantile and speechcraft, he travelled all over the country, trading spices. Along with Sicarius travelled a sellsword by the name of Cyra, a redguard with incredible skills with the blade.

"Look at this." Sicarius Tenebra said to Cyra, who was walking at his side. Following them was a grey donkey, pulling a wooden cart with numerous chests which contained Sicarius precious spices and herbs.

"What?" Cyra said as they walked past a shouting merchant waving with fresh meat.

"Cheap meat. Cheap silk. And cheap spices. Trading is not what it was, Cyra. Ten years ago, all merchants sold quality goods for good prices, but now..." Sicarius fingered a piece of silk, and put it back in disgust. He patted his donkey. He bought an apple at a nearby stand. A fine, red fruit it was. He held it out to the donkey, which was called Tiber Septim. The animal ate it with big chews.

"Well, Tamriel is lucky they have you then, Sicarius. You and your quality spices." Cyra said sarcastically and smiled an almost unnoticeable smile.

"The thing is that you are exactly right!" Sicarius exclaimed. "I have good spices, quality, I promise you!" He patted the rucksack on his back, from which there came a strong smell of different spices and herbs. It was his most precious stash.

"Yes, yes." Cyra said. "Where are we supposed to be?" Cyra had black hair in a ponytail and intense green eyes. She was teh best swordsman Sicarius had ever met, and she did her job as bodyguard well.

"It´s somewhere here, I think.." Sicarius looked around for a while, and then he spotted and empty space. "There we go! Come on, Cyra! It´s spice time!"

Sicarius was a trader around the age of thirty. He had copper hair in a short ponytail, and blue wise eyes. He had grown up as a serving boy in a cheap tavern in Skingrad. An orphan, he had been, all alone until when he was five, and the owner of a tavern had offered Sicarius a place as running boy. It had saved Sicarius from the revolting life of a pickpocket.

Now, Sicarius Tenebra had a very noble name. It started when Sicarius was nine years old. He had developed an intense interest of spices. He would often help the cooks spicing the food, and when a rich spice trader by the name of Tenebra had come to Skingrad to dine with the count, the owner of the tavern had seen his chance. He had sold the young Sicarius as a page to the spice trader for a pricely sum. Rumors say that for the money, the owner of the tavern had packed his things and left Cyrodiil, to start a new life in Summerset isles. The spice trader Tenebra was a stern man, but nevertheless he thaught Sicarius Tenebra, who had now been adopted by the trader, everything about being a spice merchant. The tricks for attracting customers, how to use scales, the system of economy, everything. But the older Sicarius grew, the sterner and harder his adoptive father became. At the age of fifteen, Sicarius was often slapped for doing even minor mistakes. One year later, Sicarius Tenebra, Sixteen years old and already a noble knower of spices, ran away from his horrid father. Sicarius took himself higher and higher up in the spice trading hierarchy, and soon he had established a comfortable reputation. He had then met Cyra, who at the time had been quite poor and in serious need of employment. Sicarius Tenebra had offered her the place as his bodyguard, and since then they would always travel toghether.

"Come, dear people of the Imperial city!" Sicarius shouted. "Yes, yes! Would you miss a chance to stock up on precious spices from the very best in spice trading?" People came closer at the sound of the charismatic and self-confident spicer.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I, Sicarius Tenebra, am here today to personally distribute my fine goods to you, dear citizens!"

"It´s that Tenebra!" Someone shouted, and some people gasped and came closer. "Sicarius Tenebra! He´s here, come on!"

Almost twenty people had gathered around the spot where Sicarius was standing. He had packed up small samples of his spices on squares of cloth on some barrels and crates. Cyra stood, watchful against anyone who seemed to be interested in thievery.

A woman in burgundy linens pointed at a small pile of green leaves.

"How much for a hectogram of that, Mister Tenebra?"

"Oh!" Sicarius Tenebra exclaimed as he picked up his scales from the rucksack. "I see, milady has a taste for fresh sage leaves! Handpicked from the forest around Niben bay!"

Sicarius took a handful of leaves from a bag on the wooden cart and placed them on the scales, measuring a hectogram of it.

"That would be a hundred gold septims, m´lady!"

"You drive a hard bargain, Sicarius Tenebra, but by Akatosh, the tea of your sage leaves is a blessing from the divines." The woman traded a handful of coins for a cloth pouch of leaves.

"Anyone else interested in spices?"

Business went good that day. Sicarius sold several different spices, cinnamon which he had traded from a Khajiit salesman, apple leaves and nettles, and an alchemist even brought the useless nirnroots which Sicarius had plucked without reason. Sicarius even ran out of pepper, which rarely happened. When the sun was on its way down, the many customers began to dissapear, one by one, until Sicarius and Cyra decided to spend some of the money on food and warm beds at the nearby Merchants inn. The innkeep provided a safe place for the wooden cart and place in the stables for Tiber. They ordered a large evening meal consisting of venison, vegetable stew, potatoes, corn and bacon meat.

"Sicarius." Cyra said while the two of them were sitting by a table in front of a warm fire at the inn. They were enjoying fine imported Black-briar mead from Skyrim, after a large dinner.

"What..*buurp*..is it, Cyra? Enjoying your mead?"

"Yes, Sicarius, I am, but...I..I suspect nasty things are in the making."

"What is it, then?" Sicarius placed the mead bottle on the table.

"Come closer." Sicarius leaned forward, so that the distance between him and Cyra was very small.

"The thing is, I saw a bunch of men in robes and hoods a distance away from where you were selling spices. They were gesturing towards us, and speaking in low voices. I couldn´t hear anything they said because of all the noise from the customers, but I don´t think this bodes well, Sicarius."

Sicarius was silent for a while. He reached for a tankard of mead and emptied it.

"I do not think it is anything to be worried of, Cyra."

"I guess not, then. But if we see them again we´d better be careful."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Sicarius woke up with a weird feeling that something was not right. It was like a heavy curtain on top of the otherwise beautiful morning, and as soon as he had dressed in his merchanting clothes, a green silk doublet and linen pants, he woke up Cyra. They would go out and sell spices again, and hopefully the business would go well.

"Wakey wakey, Cyra!" He tried to sound normal, but Cyra saw right through his little act.

"Good morning." Sicarius turned around while Cyra dressed. "Tell me whats going on, Sicarius. You can´t trick me, you know."

Sicarius walked over to the window and stared out into the slowly awakening city.

"I woke up with a nasty feeling that something is wrong." He told his redguard companion.

"What is wrong?" Cyra asked as she buckled on her sword belt.

"I don´t know yet. But something is wrong."

"Let´s get some breakfast. Then we´ll get Tiber and go out and make some money. I´m sure nothing is wrong. you´re probably just exhausted from yesterday."

"I hope you are right, Cyra." Sicarius followed Cyra down the stairs to the lobby of the Inn.

* * *

The breakfast was bread, vegetables, eggs and some sausages. Sicarius Tenebra and Cyra The Redguard washed the food down with a lovely sweet spice ale tasting summer. Not counting with the odd feeling that something was wrong, the day had been wonderful so far. Sicarius and Cyra paid for the food and the room, and then they left the inn, walking to the stables were Tiber and the spice cart was located. When they came around the corner and approached the stables, Sicarius could feel his breakfast coming up halfway through his throat. Tiber Septim was lying dead on the ground, eyes white, not moving. A bloody wound stretched from his throat and down to his chest. It was an awful scene. Sicarius fell to his knees, holding his hand over his mouth. Cyra drew her steel longsword and ran over to investigate. She looked in the stablehouse, behind it, and everywhere else in the small yard. But they were alone. The killer had striked in a flash and dissapeared as quickly.

"Are you feeling alright? God damn, look what they did to Tiber!" Cyra kneeled beside Sicarius, patting his back carefully.

"You were right.." Sicarius managed to say.

"About what..?..Oh..."

"The hooded men. It must´ve been them."

"I´ll check if the cart is alright. Stay here, and take a minute to calm down, Sicarius!"

Cyra dissapeared into a room in the stables, and after a short while, she came back, with a sad look in her eyes.

"They destroyed it."

Sicarius heart sank in his chest, and he felt so denied. They had killed his donkey and destroyed his spices. What would they do next. Suddenly, a slight panic and paranoia struck him.

"Why did they do this, Cyra?" He said. He stood up.

"I don´t know, Sicarius. But it´s not the last we´ve seen of them. And I found this."

Cyra held out a small note. Sicarius read it.

"_Dear Sicarius Tenebra. We know your true identity. We know your past. The question is, do you want to know?_

_Talos plaza distric, sewer entrance, tonight at ten."_

"What in the name of Azura is this? Why did they have to kill my donkey and destroy my wares to tell me...This?"

"I don´t know. What do you think we should do?"

"It certainly seems they could do with some punishment, Cyra. We will go to the place they decided, and we will kill them." Sicarius was furious. All the sorrow had been exchanged for fury and hate against the awful persons who had done this.

"But what if it is a trap?" Cyra said.

"You can handle a sword pretty well. And I am as cunning with words as an assassin is with a dagger. I need answers. We shall go to the sewer entrance in Talos plaza, and we shall make them pay for their crimes.

"It will be dangerous. But as long as you pay me, I am your sword, Sicarius, so I´ll follow you there. What do we do now?"

"We´ll need to prepare if the worst happens and it is a trap, as you suggested. We´ll take a trip to get some daggers and lockpicks. We´ll give Tiber to the innkeep in exchange that he shuts up about all this. And he can salvage whatever spices from the carts he wants. Let´s go."

At ten o´clock, Cyra and Sicarius were standing by the small sewer entrance in the Talos Plaza district, keeping their eyes wide open and scanning the area for any sign of life. Of course, guards patrolled the district, but they did not seem to notice the two persons, since they were garbed in heavy black cloaks. Five minutes passed. Then ten minutes.

"What are we supposed to do?" Sicarius asked Cyra.

"I have no idea."

Sicarius was quiet for a while, then he suddenly said;

"I think we are supposed to go down there, Cyra."

"I was thinking the same thing."

They removed the large iron plate covering the sewer entrance, and soon Sicarius found a narrow ladder on the cold walls of the hole.

"Okay, I´m going down."

"I´ll be right behind." Cyra answered.

Sicarius climbed down, one step at a time, and above him Cyra was doing the same. After what felt like an eternity of climbing the ladder, they reached the bottom, and a small rectangular room. Sicarius took a few steps and scanned the room. It was cobbled, and he could hear dripping sounds from water veiling the damp walls.

"Oh for Azuras sake...this smell really destroys me...yuck!" Sicarius avoided breathing through the nose, and as soon as Cyra had reached the bottom, they began walking through the room. It eventually ended, and a tunnel could be seen.

"Are we going in there, Cyra?"

"Why are you asking me, you were the one deciding to go down into this damp and foul-smelling pit of hell in the first place.."

"Okay.." Sicarius managed to say. He grabbed a torch which was oddly but apparently lit, fastened on the wall. "Then, we´re going in."

They walked through the entire tunnel, and at one point a large rat attacked them. Quick as a snake, Cyra had struck down the foul creature, and their journey under the Imperial city had continued. At the end of the tunnel, more light could be seen, and Sicarius immediately knew that this had been a big mistake. They left the tunnel and came out into a larger room, decorated with red banners with rising suns embrodiered on them.

"Good evening." A voice said. "And welcome to my lovely lair."

A shady figure appeared, Garbed in a blood-red robe, hood pulled down over her face. Sicarius could hear that it was a woman speaking.

"Who are you?" Sicarius managed to say.

"I," The woman said, as she pulled the hood off. "Am Milielle."

It was a Breton woman, around the age of thirty, with pale skin and blonde hair in a knot on the back of her head. She had a strange red glow in her eyes, which unnerved Sicarius.

"Why have you summoned me here? Why did you kill my donkey and destroy my wares?"

"Why did you not get the guards here to help you?" Milielle answered with a question. She smiled, and with her expression she revealed a small pointy tooth.

"Because..." Sicarius paused. "I wanted answers. The guards would probably throw sewer-dwellers like you in jail. And You said you knew about my past. ."

"I do, Sicarius Tenebra.." Milielle walked over to a table at the end and picked up a long dagger. "Or should I say Sicarius Septim?"


	3. Chapter 3

The words seemed to come in slow motion from Milielles mouth. Sicarius found himself in a slight shock, not believing what she had said was true.

"What in the divines are you talking about?" He said after a short nervous laugh.

"I speak the truth!" Milielle said sharply with a loud voice. Cyra was watching the two a few metres away, and she seemed as shocked as Sicarius.

"Yes." Milielle said, more calmly this time. "You are the son of Martin Septim."

"But how is that even possible? Martin Septim died.."

"..Thirty years ago." The Breton woman finished his sentence. "Leaving after him his lover and unborn son. You."

This was something really weird to Sicarius. How and why did this happen? So many questions were fighting to take place in his mind.

"Faith has a nasty trait to mess up some peoples lifes, Sicarius."

"Is.." Sicarius began. "Is my mother alive?"

Milielle laughed.

"I think not, Sicarius. We cut her down as soon as we could, but it appeared that her son escaped. We managed to keep track of you, but eventually you dissapeared. We had no chance of finding you."

"You...killed her?" Sicarius couldn´t breath. His father and mother, dead. And he had never even known them. He could feel himself falling, and he heard Cyra kicking off to catch him, and so she did. She helped him up again.

"But..how did you find me?"

Milielle came closer.

"We eventually found out that you had worked on a small tavern in Skingrad. So we went there, and we...persuaded..them to give us the information we needed about you."

"Filthy creature!" Sicarius spat on the ground.

"Take it easy, Sicarius, I have not finished my story yet." Milielle took a short break, then she continued. "They told us everything. About the spice trader Tenebra. And how he had adopted you, and of course, how you had ran away, leaving him alone. But we did not kill him. No, we paid him. And now he works for us in secret, providing us with useful contacts and the payment we need. And then we found you here!"

"So..My stepfather works for you, now...horrid man, I´ll tell you... But you still haven´t told me why you have brought me here! And who are "we"?"

Milielle clapped her hands, and a door opened behind her. One by one, robed and hooded figures emerged into the dim light of the torches.

"We," Milielle said, when about twenty hooded figures had appeared in the room, positioning themselves along the walls. "Are the Mythic Dawn."

* * *

Sicarius shuddered when Milielle said the name. The Mythic Dawn. He should have known, the banners on the wall and the red robe. Those were the cult who had tried to open the portals to Oblivion, and they had assassinated Uriel Septim VII, Sicarius Grandfather, as it seemed. And now they were back, decades later, and apparently they had even more trouble planned.

"And we need you," Milielle said loudly. "To help us take the throne!"

The robed cultists roared and cheered loudly as Milielle unveiled the plan.

"Why?" Cyra asked. "Why the hell are you even here? And what do you want with Sicarius?"

"Look who´s talking!" Milielle purred. "The dog barks. Are you his handmaiden? Hahahahaha! Do you help him change when he´s soiled himself?" The rest of the cult started laughing.

Sicarius stopped Cyra from drawing her sword.

"What we need you to do is to help us recover a long-lost armor." Milielle said. She approached Sicarius slowly.

"Why me?"

"You have the blood of dragons, Sicarius. The armor we seek gives the bearer incredible power. We need it to prove that the Mythic Dawn is capable of ruling Tamriel and keep the other provinces at bay. And it can only be found by someone from the Septim bloodline, it appears."

"How do you know all of this?" So many questions were racing through Sicarius mind, and he did his best to ask the right ones. Milielle walked over to a chest near a small altar at the right wall. She opened it and pulled out a large scroll.

"By the divines!" Cyra exclaimed. "It´s an Elder Scroll!"

"Yes it is, my dear Redguard friend. It is all described here. The armor of Alessia, first Imperial emperor of Tamriel. She destroyed the Ayleids, and took the throne, in this legendary armor, which is said to have been given to her by the gods. After her death it dissapeared mysteriously, and this scroll marks the location of it. It is scattered over Cyrodiil in five parts, The boots, the bracers, the chestplate, the helmet and the spear. Hidden in five faults, which can only be opened by the touch of a Septim."

"And," Sicarius asked, laughing. "Do you actually think that I am going to help you?"

"We figured that you might say that. And our only solution to that is.." Milielle nodded to the cultists, and four of them immediately sprung forward and grabbed Cyra and Sicarius in tight grips.

"To take your hand, Sicarius." Milielle approached Sicarius, brandishing the long knife which shone weirdly in the dim light.

* * *

"No!" Sicarius shouted. "I command you to stand back! Dare touch me, and I´ll...I´ll...!"

"Hahahaha!" Milielle laughed as she grabbed Sicarius arm in a suspiciously powerful grip. She raised the knife.

"NO!" Cyra shouted. She thrashed violently, but the cultists held her in a firm grip.

"Tell her to stop or we´ll take both your hands!" Milielle said.

"Stop, Cyra! Please!" Cyra calmed down a little. Milielle waved to another member of the Mythic Dawn, who approached them and handed Milielle a small pink bottle which looked suspiciously like...skooma..!?

"Drink this, it´ll take away the worst pain."

"Do you take me for a drug addict?" Sicarius giggled hysterically, his panic just growing more and more.

"Very well then." Milielle put the blade of the knife carefully to Sicarius arm.

"Wait!" Sicarius exclaimed. "Give some of that, then!"

Milielle emptied the bottle in Sicarius mouth. Then she threw it away, and it smashed into the wall. Next, she pressed the blade to his arm, and he could see the tool cutting through flesh, and he heard Cyras roaring as distant sounds, but he didn´t feel anything. Slowly, the dim room darkened before his eyes and he let the lovely unconsciousness take him under its soft wings and fly away with him, deep into darkness.

* * *

Sicarius fell into a weird state of dreaming. It was horrible. The twisted face of his stepfather appeared, biting of his hand, and out poured not blood but melted steel, and when he tried to shout, no sounds came from his mouth, only dark fire. He woke up, sweating. Immediately, he felt his left hand. When he noticed that it wasn´t there, he began sobbing violently. After a while, his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the small cell. No windows. Barred door. Hay on the floor. He looked at his arm. From the shoulder and down to the elbow it could have been any ones arm, but from the wrist it ended in a stump covered with cloth. It was tightly bound with leather strips, and it ached. They had probably burned the wound so that he would not bleed to death. Thanks to the skooma, Sicarius had not felt the knife cutting through flesh and bone. He threw up in an empty bowl a metre away. Then he noticed that Cyra was not there. Panic struck him. What if they had killed her? She was the only friend he had ever had. They could not have killed her! If they had, he would...he would... He laid down and whimpered. He was a one-handed spicer. How would he handle the scales and pick herbs with one hand? But that didn´t matter, because he was going to die in there. Underground and forgotten. And what was even worse, he was the emperor. The emperor of Tamriel. He laughed ironically at the thought of it. And if he didn´t stop the Mythic Dawn, they would take his throne and enslave the people of Cyrodill, Hammerfell, Skyrim, everyone on the continent.


	4. Chapter 4

Sicarius followed his Redguard saviour through the dark tunnels of the Imperial city sewer system.

"How did you escape, Cyra?" Sicarius asked. Cyra had come to him while he was sobbing in pain, killed the guards and picked the lock to his cell.

"Let´s just say that I might not be what you think and keep it at that."

"Now you´ve made me interested, Cyra. And actually, The Emperor of Tamriel orders you to answer."

Cyra frowned.

"Oh by the divines, Sicarius. Don´t get too cocky about your new title. Besides, you have not been crowned yet."

"Tell me who you really are, Cyra." Sicarius stopped and sat down on a pile of rubble in the narrow tunnel. Cyra sat down in front of him and planted the torch firmly in the cracks of the cold hard floor.

"I am not really a sellsword, Sicarius.." She began slowly.

"You don´t say?" Sicarius said sarcastically.

"I am one of the few remaining Blades, Sicarius." Cyra said. Sicarius was a little caught off guard, and he just sat there, mouth open.

"We, the Blades, knew you were alive. But when the Mythic Dawn lost track of you, so did we. But eventually news came to us and we got the hint that you were a spicer and we managed to find the right one. I was entrusted with the mission of keeping you safe. So I played the role of the poor sellsword looking for hire. And I have not regretted it."

"Excuse me if I look a little shocked but it´s just the tiny fact that yesterday I was discovered to be the emperor and my best friend is a Blade. But don´t worry, go on."

"I managed to lure away the guards from my cell, and I stocked up on lockpicks, so I had no problem with picking the locks of my cell. I could´ve just kicked the door open, I guess, these locks haven´t been changed since centuries ago, but that would´ve made too much sound. And I found you thanks to the wailing and sobbing." Cyra continued.

"I killed the guards sneakily, not to attract more of them. Slit their throats, you see. They might have confiscated my sword and armour, but I always keep a knife in my boot, see."

"Thank you, I guess." Sicarius managed to say. He felt like the world was just a curtain, and everyone were just wearing masks. It was horrible. "But the friendship..You know...you and me...is it still the same?"

Cyra laughed and patted Sicarius on his shoulder. "Of course, old friend. It has always been, it was just that I haven´t told you of my job as a Blade until now."

"You know, when I become emperor," Sicarius said. "I will make you my lord Commander. Keep that in mind, Cyra."

"I will, Sicarius."

* * *

"I´ve arranged with an escort to a safe place outside Anvil. We are to meet two other Blades outside the Merchants Inn."

"How did you become a Blade?" Sicarius asked. His arm was constantly pulsating with pain but he was able to ignore it to some degree thanks to the lingering effects of the skooma.

"I am a distant relative to a man named Baurus. He is currently the lord commander of the Blades, and when I was fifteen he offered me a place in the then incredibly small group of warriors. Shortly after, the search for you began."

"I see." Sicarius and Cyra were walking in the Market district, on their way to the inn. Sicarius wondered what was coming next, how they would stop the Mythic Dawn, and...oh by Azura, the armor. They had to find the armor before Milielle did.

The other two Blades bowed to Sicarius, which made him feel very good. Very good indeed. Then, they showed Sicarius and Cyra to a stable outside the city. Four horses were waiting, and Sicarius saw one of the blades, a Redguard man in his forties pay the stable owner. Sicarius horse was a grey mare, big and strong. It was a special breed from Elsweyr, the stableman said. Sicarius stroke the animal on her neck, and then he mounted her and the party of four rode away into the afternoon sun. the Blades were wearing common leather armor, to not attract attention. The man who had paid the stable owner was Cowen, a cheerful but serious man with a fierce beard. His companion was a Redguard woman named Aleeya, a younger warrior around twenty-five, with long black hair, who seemed to flirt with Sicarius, which Sicarius without success tried to ignore.

* * *

The destination was Summerstone, a mansion a distance from Anvil. It was a large place, with a stable, two small barracks and the main house, which was incredible and beautiful, towering with a majesty that few houses could boast. It was made of stone bricks, with two wings, twin towers, and it was surrounded by a minor rock wall. Sicarius gasped in amazement when they reached his new home, but still, something puzzled him.

"Cyra?" He asked his companion.

"Yes, Sicarius?"

"Not that it would matter to me, but I have heard that there is a slightly more hidden and guarded place called Cloud Ruler temple...why is it that I am to be kept safe here and not there?"

"The place is too obvious." Cowen said, riding his horse up beside them. "This, on the other hand, is much safer and practically unknown. It´s been a special sanctuary of the Blades for decades, you see."

Sicarius entered the mansion after taking his horse to the stables, and the inside was as amazing as the outside. Two staircases led up to the second floor, and in the main hall a long table was positioned, filled with food. A warm fire crackled in the hearth, spreading a lovely light and a sweet sense of coming home after a long travel.

A bosmer woman met them in the room, wearing a mighty Akaviri armor, a sword at her waist. She was holding her helmet under her arm. She had long brown hair in a simple braid, and dark green eyes. The hint of a smile was lingering on her face, and it seemed that she had been waiting eagerly for the escort.

"Good afternoon, Sir!" The wood elf saluted Sicarius. He didn´t know what to do, so he just returned the gesture with a smile.

"My name is Eryn. I am vice commander of The Blades. Pleased to meet you!"

"You too!...Aagh!" Suddenly Sicarius could feel pain from his stump, and immediately two blades sprang up and helped him so that he would not fall.

"We´d better see to that wound, Vice commander!" Cyra said.

* * *

The medical room was located in the western tower. A breton healer named Jaquille, an older man with graying chestnut hair and sideburns helped Sicarius to ease the pain.

"Cursed cultists, using skooma to ease the pain. Could´ve been seriously dangerous." He muttered. Apparently Cyra had told him and the other about the cultists. The doctor took of the stained cloth pieces covering the wounds.

"Luckily the wound has not been infected, sir. Some oils and mixtures and you´ll be fine. I´ll see to that the blacksmith crafts something to keep the wound covered."

It was very weird for Sicarius to suddenly leave the role of the spice merchant and step into the boots of the soon-to-be emperor. There were servants helping him with all his needs, Cyra and the other blades were always on guard to defend him if needed, and the blacksmith had made a sort of fingerless glove to cover his wounded arm. Soon, the pains eased and as a matter of fact he was even able to begin his training with sword and shield. And then, one evening, Vice Commander Eryn called to a meeting in the west wing, which was the military highquarters of Summerstone. Sicarius was dressed in a comfortable burgundy doublet, matching trousers and a heavy woolen cloak with gold trims.

"Cyra has told us the basic information about the Mythic Dawn. She said you had lots more to tell, sir."

"Yes." Sicarius said. He was seated in a ridiculously large chair of ebony and oak. Almost like a throne. "They are trying to acquire a certain armor, the armor of Alessia. It is split up in five parts scattered in vaults all over Cyrodiil. The armor gives the bearer incredible powers, and the vaults can only be opened by the touch of a Septim."

"We must act quickly to stop the Mythic Dawn," Cyra said. "They might already be looking for the first part."

"But how is that possible?" Eryn asked.

"They have an Elder Scroll containing a map locating every vault." Sicarius said.

"But they can´t open it without you, sir!?" Eryn said. Sicarius was just about to provide her with the minor detail that they had his hand and therefore they might already be searching, but luckily the wood elf woman figured that out quickly. "Ah. Yes, of course, excuse my incompetence, sir."

Sicarius noticed Cyra and Cowen sneering but he gave them a stern look, and to his great satisfaction they immediately stopped smiling.

"What do you suggest we do, Sicarius?" Cyra asked. Eryn stood up, furious.

"You shall adress him as sir, Cyra! Where are your manners?"

"What in the name of the divines is this foolishness?!" Sicarius said. "Why are you to adress me in this silly way? You have done so much to me, especially Cyra, I should in fact be adressing you as sir!"

"Mylord!" Eryn gasped.

"You may adress me in any way you want, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Eryn said.

"What I suggest we do," Sicarius said. "Is we try to find the armor before the Mythic Dawn. We have to, or else everyone is in danger."

"How do we do that? The Blades are not many, mylord." Eryn said.

"Nor are the Mythic Dawn. But I suspect they will be attracting more members. And so should we."

"But the blades are a sacred order! We have undergone strict training for years, we would not have the time to train new Blades!" Aleeya said.

"That is not my intention." Sicarius said. "I was thinking of asking the guilds to help us."


	5. Chapter 5

What Sicarius had meant by "The guilds" was not only the Fighters and Mages guild, but also the more shady guilds of Cyrodiil. The thieves guild, and The Dark Brotherhood. Sicarius plan was to first of all take help from the Thieves guild to sneak into the highquarters of the Mythic Dawn. They would then try to steal the Elder Scroll containing the information about the locations of Allesias armor. Sicarius had discussed the possibilities of taking help from the imperial legion with his Council, but they had decided not to. It was best if all this remained a secret, especially if they were going to hire the Thieves guild and the Dark Brotherhood. Of course, Sicarius would not reveal his title as the emperor, to keep all this at a safe level. And to keep the guilds from asking too many questions, many gold septims had to be paid. But they had the money, so if the first part of the plan succeeded, it would be much easier to carry out the rest.

Sicarius had contacts within the Thieves guild. And, as a matter of fact, the Gray Fox himself owed Sicarius a favor since long ago.

Sicarius gathered Cyra and Cowen, and they set out on horse, disguised as lowly travellers, into the Imperial city to locate the Grey Fox. It was not an easy task, but Sicarius knew exactly where to find her. They were old friends, after all.

The abandoned house had a boarded up door and windows, the outside was cracked and dusty. If one did not know it´s secret, it would be impossible to believe that an entire guild actually lived there.

"How he do we know it´s the right place?" Cyra asked.

"Don´t worry," Sicarius ensured her. "This is just the place, Cyra."

* * *

Sicarius found the back door, and he knocked six times in a certain way, and after a small while, the door opened. A young Nord female met them. She had long brown hair and leather armor.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"We have business with your leader."

"I´m afraid she´s not in." The Nord girl was closing the door, but Sicarius stopped her.

"It´s an old friend."

The girl looked at him for a long time, and then she stood aside so that they could enter. They walked down a narrow staircase, into a long room lit by torches and lanterns hanging on the wall. Tables were placed here and there, by which people of all races, ages and genders sat, eating, reading or discussing. Others were training pickpocketing on weird dolls which had bells that tingled if you were to uncatious, or picking locks of small boxes. Some were sleeping on rough bedrolls. By a table sat a woman wearing a gray mask. She was waving a bottle and laughing heartily, speaking with two other persons. When she saw Sicarius, she gave off a small hiccup.

"Oh dear." She mumbled.

Sicarius walked with sure steps right towards the table, Cyra and Cowen following right behind. The woman immediately changed expression from shocked and frightened to happy and cheerfull.

"Aha! Sicarius, me old pal! Come sit here!" She waved to the other persons, and they dissapeared with frightening speed. Sicarius and his companions sat down. He looked at the Grey Fox with a serious and stern expression on his face.

"Tell me, why have you come here to my lovely place on this fine morning, friend?"

"I think you know why."

The woman, who appeared to be an Imperial, smiled for a short while, then she sprang up and tried to jump from the table, but Sicarius was quicker, and he caught her arm and pressed her back into the chair.

"You betrayed me, Lysanda." Sicarius said calmly.

"What..why..shut up, don´t say my name!.."

"Yes, Lysanda. I will. You betrayed me!"

"...Yes, yes...okay! I maybe did! Come to the point!"

"I need your help. And thinking of what you´ve done to me, you owe me a great favor."

"Wait...How did I betray you?.."

Sicarius gave a laugh.

"I thought you loved me! And then you ran off with my most precious wares, you hound!"

"Oh, yes..that time...ugh, I hope you forgive me. Besides, I didn´t get much from those dried old leaves. Azura knows why, and they smelled terrible. You should thank me from relieving you of those things."

"You..!?...You sold them!?" Sicarius took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

"What have I missed?" Cyra asked. "It seems that I have missed some important details here..."

"Yes, I owe you a favor." Lysanda said, ignoring Cyra. "What do you want me to do?"

Sicarius told Lysanda about his plan. How they were going to sneak into the Mythic Dawn highquarters in the sewer system and steal the Elder Scroll.

"Steal an Elder Scroll?!" Lysanda exclaimed. "That won´t be no problem, I´ve done it before. Thats how I earned this mask, see!"

Lysande began asking questions, but Sicarius simply waved them away, telling her that he was not going to tell her anything until the task was done. She was silent for a long time, then she asked him if she could speak with him alone. Sicarius told Cyra and Cowen to wait, and he followed Lysanda into another room, containing a bedroll, a desk and a bookshelf.

* * *

"I am so sorry, Sicarius." Lysanda said, when they were alone in the small room. "I am. I was terrible at the time. But don´t worry, I´ve changed! And I know, I left you and all that, but seriously... I am the Gray Fox..I don´t think I am meant for relationships.."

Sicarius frowned.

"Now that you say it, maybe you aren´t.."

"Oh, come on, Sicarius! Don´t hate me! And I´ll help you steal that scroll, please, just forgive me!"

"Yes, yes, okay." Sicarius looked at her for a long time.

"When do we do this?" She asked.

"At last. I was wondering if you´d ever ask!"

The heist was to take place the next day. Only Sicarius and Lysanda would go, for the effectiveness. Sicarius, Cyra and Cowen rode back to Summerstone to get some rest. Sicarius told his Blades that he was going to help the thiefs during the heist. Eryn told him that she thought it was a terrible idea and that he could get killed, but he just waved it away. Besides, he didn´t trust Lysanda enough to let her do the job herself. Of course, the Blades were all a little suspicious about the Thieves guild, but Sicarius ensured them not to be. It was their only chance. If they would try to steal an Elder Scroll, it was best to have some professional backup.

Sicarius spent the night before the heist to gather his thoughts and calm down. Had it been right of him to be that harsh to Lysanda? He decided that he had done right, but the next time they spoke he would be more soft and friendly to her. She was an old friend of his.

* * *

The soft padding of two pairs of leather boots was incredibly quiet to the sounds of the imperial guards in their heavy and loud armor. Darkness was their cloak as Sicarius and Lysanda made their way to the sewer entrance. They snuck past guard after guard with great silence and speed, and at last, they found the entrance.

"This is it, then." Lysanda said. "We strike quickly, and then we escape."

"Remember, they will most certainly have guards down there." Sicarius said. "Be sure to have your knifes ready."

"I do not like to kill, Sicarius." Lysanda said. "But I´ll do it because I owe you one."

When they reached the first room, the two decided to first investigate and get some information. They hoped to spy and maybe find out where the Elder Scroll was located. They silently made their way through the tunnel, and in the second room, the one where Sicarius had lost his hand, they heard voices. That certain room was empty, but the noise came from behind a door. Lysanda kept guard while Sicarius listened at the door.

"_...Locked up safely, milady." _They could hear a male voice said. Then, a female voice answered;

"_Good. I want to keep the tunnel guarded, in case anyone would try to get in there. And fetch me a pitcher of blood, will you."_

Blood. Sicarius had suspected that Milielle was a vampire, but not until now had the suspicions been confirmed. That explained why she looked so young but still had killed his mother thirty years ago. He could hear Lysanda gasp quietly.

Then, they heard steps, coming closer and closer, Sicarius gestured to Lysanda to hide, while he snuck in behind the door, drawing his knife. When the man came out, he closed the door, and just before he could notice the person hiding, Sicarius striked. In a quick flash, he had grabbed the man, putting his left arm over his throat, ending his life with a knife to the head. Not a sound except the silent gushing of blood could be heard. He wiped hid knives on his clothes, and sheathed it. He gestured to Lysanda to follow him, and so she did.

"We´d better not try to kill Milielle," He said when they were gathered in the tunnel. "She´s a vampire."

"Oh, by the divines...!" Lysanda gasped.

"Come on, let´s continue down the tunnels, and hope that we don´t have to kill any more cultists. And we´d better spy to get some information about the scroll."


	6. Chapter 6

The search did not take long, but it was dangerous nonetheless. Several times, Sicarius and Lysanda had to hide from cultists taking a calm stroll in the sewer system. They spied, and they listened, and eventually they managed to get small fragments of information just by using their ears. They had to kill a few people, and Sicarius knew that Lysanda disliked it, but he also knew that she did it for his sake. He was thankful for that. Somewhere deep inside his soul he wondered if the relationship between him and the Grey Fox would ever be as it had been. But he had to stop thinking about that, because now the tunnel was before them, descending into eternal darkness. He stopped Lysanda, and pointed at the two guards talking and laughing by the entrance. Sicarius and Lysanda had no chance of sneaking in behind them so the only chance they had was to lure them away. Sicarius picked up a stone. He aimed into another room on the right end of the room, and threw. With a loud bang and crash of crushed glass, the cultists first stood still a while, and then they ran right into the room, giving Sicarius and Lysanda a split second to sneak into the tunnel. They went through it as fast as they could, and when they reached the end of it, they were met by a small room. In the far end was a large chest on a stone slab. On the right side, a guard was sitting on the floor, all limp, snoozing heavily. Scattered on the floor around him was several bottles of skooma. This was going to be very easy. While Lysanda slit the guards throat, Sicarius fumbled to pick the lock on the chest and eventually he succeeded, and he flipped up the lid of the container.

"By Talos.." Lysanda said when she saw the Scroll. "I´ve only seen two in my whole life.."

"Thats twice the amount of times most people have." Sicarius said, and picked up the heavy scroll. Now, all they had to do was to escape the sewer system.

They quietly left the room, Sicarius carrying the Elder Scroll on his back, tied with some strips of leather. When they reached the end of the tunnel, the guards were still standing there, talking, backs to the tunnel.

"...Good thing that we have a copy. Lady Milielle carries it with her at all , Anyone could sneak in and steal the scroll, when lady Milielle put old Scafir on the guard duty!"

"Yes, he´ll never stop with the skooma. But he won´t be easily killed, Lady Milielle has given him The Gift."

Sicarius and Lysanda listened in horror as the guards spoke. What they had just said had ruined their whole plan! A copy! Which Milielle carried with her at all times! But they had the Scroll, so what they had to do was to get the armor before the Mythic Dawn did. And then they heard steps behind them. Slowly, they turned around and saw Scafir, throat slit but still alive, and he was aiming his red glowing eyes directly at Sicarius and Lysanda. The guards turned around, and they immediately drew their swords.

"Guards, guards! Its that thief! The Grey Fox!" One of them shouted.

"Burglars! Come quickly!" The other one shouted. Just when the two cultists swung their blades and attacked the scroll thiefs, Lysanda grabbed Sicarius and pulled him away from the swords, snuck behind the guards and cast a spell with her left hand. Sicarius and Lysanda shone for a split second, then dissapeared. The cultists looked at the spot where the burglars had been standing a second ago, puzzled. The only sound that could be heard was the breahs of the cultists and maybe, maybe, if you listened close, the sound of two pairs of feet.

* * *

"I did seriously not know you could use Illusion magic, Lysanda!" Sicarius said when the two had climbed back up from the sewers. In the darkness of night they were running through the streets of the Imperial city.

"I had to learn! Can only use it once a day, but by Talos, it is useful for thievery! And it only lasts two minutes, which is quite sad, but I guess I´ll have to practise!"

They reached the thieves guild high quarters, and Sicarius followed Lysanda inside, down the stairs and into her room. There, she sat down on a chair and gestured to Sicarius to do the same. He did. Then, she took off her gray cowl. Her chestnut hair fell down to her shoulders and now was the first time sine very long ago that he could clearly see her deep blue eyes.

"Thank you for helping me, Lysanda." Sicarius said. He picked up his coin purse and threw it on the table.

"That covers for what you have helped me with and a slight bonus for saving my life back there."

Lysanda smiled.

"You know, I´d like to know why you wanted this Elder Scroll. And what part does it play in your life?" She waited patiently for Sicarius answer, which took a long time to come.

"Lysanda..." He began. "I am the heir to Martin Septim and the future emperor of Tamriel."

Lysanda looked a little surprised.

"Oh." She said. "Well, that was...Unexpected.."

"I need the Elder Scroll because the Mythic Dawn, who had it in the first place were trying to recover a long lost armor with great power. I have to stop them. If they get it, what follows will be disastrous."

"If you excuse, me, I´m just going to drink a glass of water..." Lysanda stretched out her arm and grabbed a pitcher and a cup on the table and poured up a glass. She emptied the cup in one swallow."

"I was not meant to know this, right?" She said.

"Not really." Sicarius said. "But I felt like telling you after you saved my life."

"If you need anything more, don´t be ´fraid to ask, Sicarius." She said. Then she picked up the coin purse. She rummaged through it, and a wide smile spread across her face. "Well, well, well! This is good, me old pal! I can buy anything for this!"

"Nice doing business with you, Gray Fox!" Sicarius said, and stood up. He was heading for the exit when Lysanda said;

"You too, your highness!"

* * *

The ride back to Summerstone took some time, even though Sicarius rode his grey mare as fast as possible, the road was lined with bandit camps and dungeons from where creatures descended. Anyhow, he managed to get back to his stronghold unharmed and with the scroll safe in his posession.

It was quite hard to live without a hand, as you might imagine. And sometimes, Sicarius felt like the hand was still there on his arm, but when he saw the stump he was deeply dissapointed and sometimes even sad.

Even though it was very late night, some would even say very early morning, Sicarius decided to summon his council at once. He had barely finished his cup of warm spice wine that a servant had brought to him when his Blades turned up in the hall. Tired and with their hair in undescribable forms, they sat down and were served the same fine drink that Sicarius had had. It is to be noted however, that Sicarius was very strict with alcoholic in his court, but at times like this, some cheering up could be useful.

"Greetings, Blades. I carry news of the Mythic Dawns plans." He said when they were all warm and comfortable around the table.

"It was dangerous for you to go alone!" Eryn said. "You could´ve been killed!"

"No, Eryn, for the hundredth time, I was helped by the most practised in the arts of stealth." Sicarius sighed, but then a confident smile spread on his lips. "You know, Eryn, if I should somehow not be happy with your presence in my service, I could simply make you dissapear, you know, literally."

Sicarius watched as Eryn got all white in her face. He could see Cyra and the others hiding smiles.

"No, Eryn, I have no problem with you in my court but seriously, let me take care of myself."

"Yes, mylord." Eryn said. "Enough of my nonsense, please tell us what you found out. If it is as you said and the Cult is regrouping, we have to act."

"Yes, good." Sicarius grabbed the Elder Scroll from his side and placed it on the table. "Ladies and gentlemen. The Elder Scroll."


	7. Chapter 7

Sicarius had informed his council about the news from the Mythic Dawn hideout. He told them about how Milielle had an extra copy of the map. He told them that the Mythic Dawn were slowly turning into Vampires, and therefore defeating them would be much more difficult.

The coming evenings were spent planning to find the Armor, and the first part they were going to find was the Tricksters boots. The artifacted granted the bearer incredible speed and even the power to walk on water. The scroll told of the location of the boots, the crypt of Arnholm, an ancient Nord cemetary, which was said to be home to ferocious evil.

Sicarius put toghether a raiding party, swift yet strong, with him, Cyra, Aleeya and three more blades. The horses were prepared, and the party was granted one nights rest before the great day, the hunt for the Tricksters boots. The crypt was located close to Bruma, so they had to ride a good while to get there. The chilly winds of the Jerall mountains was a force to be reckoned with. The rising heights of the majestic mountains were a beautiful view – but at the same time leathal to climbers. Luckily for the royal raiding party, the Crypt of Arnholm was located not on the top of the mountains but rather on a small plateau somewhere halfway up the icy tops. Sicarius and the Blades had to leave their horses at the foot of the Jeralls since they were not fit to climb, so the party had to continue on foot. Sicarius did have some problems since his left hand was gone, but nevertheless, after a long while of climbing, they had reached their destination.

"By Azura! What a place!" Cyra said when she laid eyes upon the magnificent entrance to the crypt. It was shaped straight out of the mountain, forming a large face with sharp edges, wearing a horned helmet and long stone hair floating down the rock wall. The open mouth was the entrance into a deep, black and seemingly endless tunnel.

"Indeed!" Sicarius said. "This was most expected, since Arnholm the Bold was a great Nord hero. He roamed the wilds, slaying beasts in Cyrodiil during the early eras. He was an adventurer, you see. Skyrim wasn´t enough for him, so he began exploring the Jeralls. And that´s where he fell to his death during the battle with a fierce mountain bear. But enough of that, let us explore the crypt!"

The blades followed Sicarius and Cyra to the entrance, where they each lit a torch and drew their blades, all except Sicarius who carried his longsword in his only hand, his wooden shield strapped on to his other arm. The fiery light from the torches shone fiercely, and lit up the rock walls on both side of the raiders. It was decorated with roughly cut out pictures of warriors and shieldmaidens, bears, goblins, magicians, and...dragons. All the lines were filled with primitive paint from tree bark and eventually animal blood. The party looked at the paintings, amazed, as they slowly progressed through what seemed like a downward spiraling pit of darkness. When they had stared their eyes off on the ancient paintings, the tunnel ended in a large room. There were stone stairs in front of them, and on top of the small plateau which they led to was a stone throne. The room was dusty, and bones were scattered all over the floor, skulls, legs, ribcages. And on the throne, another skeleton was sitting. Or, it was not exactly a skeleton, it looked more like some kind of...person?

* * *

"Why have you come here?" A deep voice boomed. The walls stirred, and the party looked around in fear, trying to measure from where the sound came.

"Foolish travellers.." The voice continued. It was a deep and strong voice, yet still it sounded like it came form someone, or something very old.

"Who are you?" Cyra shouted loudly, pointing her torch at every shadow or bone that seemed to shudder or move.

"Who do you think?" The voice boomed. The echoes sent the sound bouncing from the walls and up through the tunnel. It was then Sicarius understood that the voice came from the figure sitting on the throne. Slowly, he moved up the stone stares, followed by his Blades.

"Are you Arnholm the Bold?" Sicarius said loudly. The figure shuddered as it moved it´s jaws and answered.

"I am. And you have disturbed me." The phantom of the dead hero had a sort of light green dim glow to his rusty armor. On his head sat an iron helmet with horns. His cheeks and eye sockets were sunken and where his eyes were supposed to be, only blackness existed.

"We have come to seize your boots, Arnholm!" Sicarius said, still approaching the skeleton slowly.

"DO YOU NOT KNOW WHO I AM?" The skeleton stood up in all his dusty might and drew his waraxe.

"We do!" Aleeya shouted, stepping in, covering Sicarius with her sword raised to the skeleton.

"Zun Haal Viik!" The skeleton roared, and a blue shockwave left his mouth and made contact with Aleeya´s sword, which flew out of her grasp and landed several metres away with a clang. The skeleton was one of the first Dragonborn, a legendary hero with the ability to wield a dragons power, or Thu´um.

"He uses dragon shouts!" Aleeya shouted. "Watch out!"

"Protect the emperor!" Cyra shouted. You two, come with me!" Two of the blades joined Cyra and advanced on the skeleton, swords raised.

"NO!" Sicarius shouted, but it was too late.

"RII VAAZ ZOL!" The dead hero shouted, and the light blue sphere left his mouth with the speed of an arrow straight from a bow. It rended straight through one of the Blades armor and body. He fell to the hard rock floor, dead.

"No!" Sicarius was furious. These men and women risked their lives for him, while he was just standing there. He ran forward.

"You there!" Aleeya shouted to the last Blade. "Keep the emperor safe!"

"Certainly, miss! Come with me, sir!" The blade tried to grab Sicarius by his arm but he softly bumped him with the shield.

"Watch out if you care for your life, blade!"

"But sir, my life is nothing worth, yours is the life that matters!" 

"I command you to step back! Take cover behind that pillar!" The blade looked at Sicarius in amazement, but soon he jumped out of the way for another sphere and followed the Sicarius advice.

"IIZ SLEN NUS!" The phantom shouted, and a blue light hit Aleeya as she tried to jump out of the way and land a hit on her enemy. In a flash of light, her legs were frozen solid, stuck in an ice block growing from the floor.

"Watch out!" The second blade tried to cut Aleeya loose with his sword.

"FUS RO DAH!" The phantom shouted, and his mighty Thu´um destroyed both Aleeya and the blade.

"What the hell is happening!?" Cyra shouted in tears. "Why can´t we land a hit?"

"If you take that way," Sicarius said and pointed at a spot at the phantoms side, I´ll fend him off!"

He jumped out of the way for another blue sphere, and then he noticed that the blade which had been killed by the phantoms second shout was standing up, eyes shining blue. He advanced, approaching Sicarius with frightening speed when Cyra stepped in between, driving her sword straight through the walking corpse.

"Thank you!" Sicarius said.

"Just don´t die!" Cyra shouted back at him. "I would hate to have to slash you in half if you are resurrected!"

The next thing happened in a flurry. The phantom was about to shout, when the last blade, the one Sicarius had told to hide, ran straight forward, approaching the phantom.

"BE READY TO COUNTERATTACK!" He shouted, raising his blade.

"What are you..?" But Sicarius couldn´t finish his sentence, because the roar of the blade advancing was indescribable. He drove the point of his sword through the phantoms raised arm, but was killed by the rusty waraxe in the next second. Cyra and Sicarius saw their chance and in a split second they sprang into action. They drove their swords through the phantoms sides, both at once.

"You´ve...got me..." The phantom muttered before falling to the ground in a pile of dust, rusty armor, bones and a pair of shining leather boots.


	8. Chapter 8

The two persons made their way out of the crypt with sadness in their souls. They had lost four companions. That was too much. Yes, they had acquired the boots of the trickster, but it had been on the cost of four good soldiers and friends. They climbed down the mountain in silence and mounted their steeds. The ride back went much faster since they had fewer bellys to feed. They brought with them the four horses back to Summerstone. When they reached their hold, all Sicarius and Cyra wanted was a good nights rest.

"Where are the others?" Eryn asked when she met them outside the mansion.

"Dead." Sicarius said. "The corpse of Arnholm was possessed. It used Thu´um."

"Thu´um!? By the divines, I am glad that all of you didn´t die at least." Eryn said. "Come inside, I have prepared some good warm soup for you."

That evening, not only sorrow was ruling Summerstone, but also pride. They had succesfully defeated the phantom and stolen the tricksters boots, the first part of Alessias armor. The Mythic Dawn would only find a dusty corpse where the boots were supposed to be. Was it mere luck that they had gotten to the crypt before the Mythic Dawn?

The next day, Sicarius insisted on wearing the boots. No one else wanted to, they believed they were cursed. But Sicarius knew they were not. He slipped them on in the garden that beautiful misty morning, and when he took a few steps, his feet were extremely light and he found that he could easily stand on the surface of the water in the garden pond. He could outrun any horse as well, and barely be exhausted. The boots would be perfect to fight the Mythic Dawn. He continued like that all the day until it was lunch time. After the meal Sicarius and his council would plan on what to do next.

* * *

First of all, the council agreed that to continue with the treasure-hunting, they would have to be upgraded in terms of equipment. They would need enchanted items, which would not only make it easier to beat any enemies that happened to stand in tehir way but also reduce the amount of Blades dying in battle because of insufficient equipment. To obtain such equipment, however, Sicarius and the Blades had to take help from the two main guilds of Cyrodiil. The Fighters guild, for good armor and weapons, and the Mages guild to enchant it all with the best enchantments.

The first stop for the Blades was the local fighters guild in Anvil. Sicarius was joined by Cyra and Cowen, Eryn decided to stay at Summerstone to practise swordfighting with the remaining blades. They bound their horses outside and paid a stableboy to feed and water them. The outside of the large stone house was decorated with red banners and swords. They pulled open the large wooden door and stepped inside the house. It was warm and comfortable, the clangor of metal on metal rang through the building as the members of the Fighters Guild practised with one another. Some wore heavy steel plate, and they were running whetstones along the sharp edges of their axes and swords, and some were garbed in fur or leather armor, stringing bows of fletching arrows. The guild hall was filled with a lovely energy, and it did not take Sicarius and his companions long to find the guild hall leader. It was a khajiit woman in a leather armor. She had braids with pearls and a fine red tint in her fur. She had brown eyes, and she was speaking with an Imperial in a steel armor. Probably the porter. When the woman saw Sicarius and the blades, she excused herself to the porter and turned to the three.

"Good afternoon, travellers. I am Do´Khinara, the head of the Anvil mages guild."

"Hello, milady!" Sicarius said. "My name is Sicarius and me and my friends are wondering if you knew where to find the finest armors and swords of Cyrodiil."

"Well," The khajiit said. "I certainly know where to find them, actually. But why should I tell you?"

Sicarius sighed, and with a small wisper he conjured a dark green sphere. He threw it at the khajiit discretely.

"Aah. Forgive my manners, I seem to have had a bad morning."

"No problem at all!" Sicarius laughed. The voice of the emperor was very useful indeed, a trait which only the Imperials could boast. "Now, about those armors.."

* * *

Do´Khinara invited the three to sit in her office. She brought them some nice tea and then she began telling them about the plates and swords. They were made of mithril, light but still extremely durable, and such equipment had not been made since the dawn of the second era, and therefore very few existed. But still, Do´Khinara knew where to find them. A ruined blacksmith tower to the northwest of Anvil, which was said to be haunted. Sicarius had asked her why she simply had not brought together her best fighters and raided the ruins, and she had answered that she did not favor taking risks. Not if it meant putting the lifes of her comrades at stake. Sicarius knew what she meant.

Do´Khinara rold Sicarius and his blades that a giant rat was said to roam the ruins, and therefore she had no interest in going there. But Sicarius had, and that was the most important. But right when the three were about to leave and return to Summerstone to get a wagon and some horses, Do´Khinara stoppeed them.

"Not so fast, friends. Did you think I was just going to let you go?"

"Uh, yes, ma´am." Cowen said.

"Tough guy, eh? No, no. I always favor a duel, you see. And my champion is you, tough guy." The Khajiit woman said. She pointed at Cowen, who seemed to be a little nervous, but nevertheless he accepted her challenge.

"So when do we do this?" He said.

"It depends. When do you want to lose? Tomorrow? The day after tomorrow?"

"How about right now, pussycat?"

"Splendid, tough guy." Do´Khinara stood up and the three followed her down the stairs and into the main room of the fighters guild, a large empty rectangular area with practising dolls. When the four persons arrived, the fighters immediately stopped and saluted their leader.

"Dear fighters!" Do´Khinara said. "Today, we have a challenger!"

"Um, wasn´t it you who challenged me?" Cowen muttered.

"Quiet, I am speaking." The khajiit woman hissed to him. Then she continued. "I am to fight with this Redguard man right here, right now! And do not expect me to lose!"

The two combatants stepped out into the room and had their swords swapped for wooden ones, for safety reasons.

The porter sounded a bell and the fight began. Cowen stepped out in a defensive position, sword pointing towards his enemy and the shield raised to his chest. The khajiit lashed out and whipped her sword arm, landing three hits, two of which Cowen managed to defend and one which hit him right on the calf.

"Ouch! Damn, I´m going to get you!" He stepped in and brough his sword down. Even though the khajiit tried to block with her sword, it forced her to back a few steps, and that gave Cowen a chance to attack again. He swiped left, and Do´Khinara dodged. Then he swiped right, and his sword hit her shield with a bang. Immediately the khajiit warrior stepped in and slashed again, Cowen blocked and countered with a hit to her shoulder.

"Aargh!" Do´Khinara roared, and sprang out of the way for another hit, but broght her sword down again and smashed it to Cowens shield. It made him lose concentration and the Khajiit saw her chance and spanked him on his butt.

"Gaah! Why..can´t...I...hit!" Cowen countered with a hit to the khajiits sword arm. She dropped her sword with a hiss and backed off, evading Cowens sword.

"It´s done, I give up." She muttered. Cowen lowered his sword and massaged his butt.

"Good fight," He said. "But you need to work on that guard. It was practically useless. But I think you´d do good with dual wielding.

"And you´re quiet slow, Redguard. But you will improve over time. You have defeated me, now leave."

"I salute you, warrior." Cowen said right before he and the other two left the building. The last glimpse they got of Do´Khinara was her sudden look of surprise and maybe a hint of stoutness.


	9. Chapter 9

Cowen was more stout that ever when he, Sicarius and Cyra returned to Summerstone to regroup. He told everyone he met about how he had defeated the leader of the Anvil fighters guild, and only with a wooden sword! He got many awed pats on his back but also some sceptical comments. Eryn had discretely whispered to Sicarius;

"If Cowen actually managed to be faster than a Khajiit that must mean his opponent was over eighty and had their legs tied together.."

"No, no." Sicarius had answered. "It was pure skill. Sure, the khajiit got some hits on him, but in the end Cowen was victorious."

A few hours later, after the residents of Summerstone had eaten a meal, Sicarius called his council together, and they sat down in the hall of the mansion.

"Now, thank´s to Cowen," Sicarius said and shot a quick glance at the Redguard warrior who was sitting with a look of superiority in his dark eyes. "We managed to come across some useful information on where we could find good armor. The head of the Anvil fighters guild revealed the location of twenty full sets of mithril equipment."

The members of the council looked at each other with surprise in their faces.

"And then we are speaking cuirass, breeches, boots, gloves, swords, shields, the whole thing." Cyra said.

"This is certainly good news!" Eryn exclaimed. "We shall put together a raiding party with wagons, horses and our best blades!"

"Yes, we shall." Sicarius said.

"When to we set out?" Cyra asked.

"Early on the morrow. We need a good nights rest." Sicarius said. "But first, gather the blades outside. I don´t remember introducing myself correctly."

* * *

"Honorable Blades!" Sicarius said loudly as he was standing outside Summerstone manor, speaking to the roughly fifteen or so blades who were standing in front of him, excluding Cyra, Cowen and Eryn who were standing by his side "I think you already know who I am. I am the son of Martin Septim and the future emperor."

Cheers and applauses rose from the small crowd.

"The Future emperor," Sicarius continued. "If we manage to stop the evil threatening to throw Tamriel into slavery and darkness."

Several blades mumbled to each other with frightened looks.

"The Mythic Dawn was in posession of an Elder Scroll marking the locations of a hidden armor, with enough power to rule the entire continent. We managed to steal it, and as you might already know we already have the first part of it, but the Mythic Dawn has a copy. Therefore we must crush them before they get all parts of the armor!" Sicarius said. "We tried our luck on finding better equipment, and at the first try, we got the location of twenty full sets of mithril armor."

More cheers and applauses could be heard, and several blades began to chat cheerily with each other.

"So I will go together with Cyra and Eryn to find these armors and weapons. It will only be us three to increase the speed and effiency, and Cowen will have the task of holding Summerstone with the remaining blades. We will set out tomorrow. If we manage to come across these items, the next stop will be the Mages Guild to enchant it all. Imagine the power we will have! No cult will stand in our way, and we can stop the evil spreading and begin an era of safety and glamour!" Now, everyone exploded into cheers, and some chanted "SEPTIM! SEPTIM!".

Sicarius just stood there, proud and stout. All they needed now was a little luck, and then the blades could continue the search for the armor of Alessia. He was happy, but inside, an ominous feeling spread through his veins. The mythic dawn was certainly looking for the armor right now, and since Sicarius had no idea of how many they were, they might already be in possession of one, and if not several parts of the armor.

* * *

The small party set out the next morning, at four, with three horses, two of which pulled wooden wagons. The ride to the settlement took a good few hours, and bandits lined the road. More than once, Sicarius had to spill blood. They drank water while on horseback, but even so thirst was always near. Luckily, the party was well prepared with food and water, and so they reached the settlement soon enough, without being too thirsty or tired.

And then they arrived. The once quite cozy-looking settlement of an inn, a stable and a blacksmiths house was now but ruins and piles of rubble. The three raiders began scavenging for the equipment. Sicarius feared that Do´Khinara had been right about the settlement being haunted, but he had no time to think about it, as he was moving cobble and wood out of the way.

"Nothing here!" Eryn shouted from the stables.

"The inn´s empty too!" Cyra emerged from the large building of cobble which had once been home to tired travellers just like themselves.

"Alright!" Sicarius answered them. He pushed away a few sacks and burned rolls of cotton from the floor of the blacksmiths house, and to his amazement a hatch appeared under the rubble.

"Hey!" He shouted. "I think I might have found something!"

The other two came running to the smithery.

"Great!" Eryn said in that wood elf accent of hers. "This might be just what we have been looking for!"

They pulled open the large hatch together, and cobble stairs ran down a tunnel. Sicarius went down there, followed by his blades, swords drawn. They soon reached a cellar, not a big room, but big enough to contain what Do´Khinara had warned them for. When she said that the settlement had been haunted, she had been right. Or, well, not haunted, exactly, rather home to a fould beast.

"By Akatosh.." Cyra mumbled. In front of the three, a giant rat lay silent and sleeping. Its ragged fur rose and sank when it breathed, and it was a vile creature. It was big as a bear, but it had all the characteristics of the foul vermin existing throughout Cyrodiil, it was certainly a rat, that was one for sure.

"Let´s.." Sicarius mumbled. "Let´s just dispose of this creature in silence...I´ll drive my blade through it´s brain, if any.."

He moved towards it slowly, but it was too late. The sound of three persons in armor clanking down the cobble steps had slowly awoken the creature, and now it growled. It slowly stood up on all four legs, turned around, and it´s giant red eyes met the three treasure-seekers.

"ATTACK!" Sicarius shouted. He swung his blade, and gestured to Eryn and Cyra to do the same. If they could just drive it closer to a wall, then they could easily kill it. But it was not that easy. The rat raised a paw with sharp claws and slashed out, but Sicarius parried, and Eryn made a slash for the rats head, but without success. Cyra advanced and blocked another paw coming straight for her, and slashed. She separated paw from arm, and the creature roared in pain. That gave Sicarius a chance to attack. He rushed forward, but the beast gave him a kick in the chest. He stumbled backwards, shocked but not hurt, and he saw Eryn attack. With great swiftness she spun around, dodging the beasts desperate attempts to kill her. Eryn parried every one of them, and drew her dagger. Quick like a snake she planted it between the rats eyebrows. It fell lifeless to the floor in a low growl.

"That was amazing!" Sicarius said. "Where did you learn to be so swift?"

"Before I left Valenwood I had to take down beasts like these who tried to destroy our homes and our farms. But enough of that, let us continue looking for the armors." She sheathed her weapons and gave Sicarius a hand, helping him up from the cold floor.

"Nothing broken, milord?" She asked. "No..no I don´t think so."

"Good. After you, sir."

* * *

They left the room with the dead rat, and entered another one, this one filled with bones of smaller creatures, probably the bigger rats food. The three did their best not to step on the rather big piles of rat dung. At the end of the room there was a large door.

"Perhaps we will find the mithril behind this door!" Eryn said.

"I do hope so, this room makes me want to throw up." Sicarius said. He hurried towards the door and felt the handle. Locked. Great. "Oh no! He said it´s locked!"

"We won´t be able to crush that door with only our swords." Eryn said.

"Let me try something." Cyra said. She stood by the door, and picked up some small tools from her pouch, and began picking the lock.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Sicarius exclaimed. "I am so thankful that you learned to do that!"

"..There, and...there!" Cyra put the tools back, and opened the door.

"Arkay and Mara and Dibella and all the divines bless us!" Sicarius gasped. An incredible light was spreading from the room, filled with mannequins and weapon stands. The armors were whiter than silver yet more silver than white. Chestsplates and helmets, breeches, boots, shields and swords, it was all there. Sicarius picked up a longsword and felt it in his hand. It was incredibly light, and it was as if it formed itsef perfectly in his grip. "

Okay, let´s get all this on the wagons and ride back for Summerstone." Sicarius said, not once taking his eyes of the sword in his hand.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day, the residents of Summerstone spent their time practising. Eryn and Cyra handed out Mithril armors and swords to the blades who happilly tried them on. The yard shone of white light emerging from the Mithril equipment, swords clanged with a mystic ring and on top of that, everything was feather-light. For some warriors, like Cowen, who favored heavy equipment just had to adapt to the light swords handed out to every Blade. That morning, Sicarius gathered his blades to a speech.

"Blades!" He said. "I see you have already begun practising with your new Mithril equipment!"

Sicarius was also clad in a white suit of armor, and it shone in the sun. he held the helmet under his arm. The twenty sets were just enough for him and all the blades to have one each, including Eryn, Cyra and Cowen.

"I am extremely happy to announce that with the mithril equipment, defeating the Mythic Dawn will be much easier. The armor is both durable in physical combat but also it is partially resistant to magic. The last thing we´ll do before we continue our search for the armor of Alessia is to let the mages guild enchant it all." Sicarius took a slight pause. "Now, dear mithril-clad warriors, we shall defeat this assembly of vampire cultists and restore the realm to peace!"

The white mass erupted in cheers and applauses. Sicarius just stood there, with conficence in his eyes. This was what he had hoped for. His blades showed courage, and they believed in him. He would not dissapoint them.

* * *

It was not until late evening that Sicarius called his council to the hall. When they were all gathered, Sicarius explained his thoughts on their next move.

"Now that we have the mithril armor, th eonly thing we need to do is to ask the mages guild to enchant them."

"I actually object." Eryn said. "The armors are amazing without anything more, and asking the mages guild would probably just take a lot of time, and seriously, what does it do?"

"Eryn is right," Cowen said. "Sure, it gives the equipment a little more magic resistance, but what else? And the mythic dawn are looking for the armor of Alessia in this very moment."

"Enchanting the armors will save lifes." Cyra said. Sicarius was glad that she was on his side.

"This is war, Cyra. People die in war." Eryn said.

"Not my people." Sicarius said. "Tomorrow we ride for anvil."

And so they did. The misty morning was perfect, full of tranquility and peace. Nightinggales and other morning-singers watched as the caravan of horses, carts and fifteen soldiers soldiers set out to the port-city of Anvil to seek help from the Mages guild. Eryn and four other blades were tasked with holding Summerstone, not that Sicarius expected anyone to attack it, but he was a man of safety.

The streets were empty, which was perfect, no onlookers would expect anything suspicious. For safety reasons, Sicarius had had the equipment covered with cloth rolls to hide them. The caravan stopped outside the large beautiful building with the blue banners of the mages guild. Perfect. Sicarius knocked nervously on the gate, and after a small while the door was opened by a middle-aged breton man, with short blonde-brown hair and mage robes. He had a gentle and friendly expression, but something told Sicarius that this man might have unusual powers. He greeted them with a smile.

"Welcome to the mages guild in Anvil!" He said. "My name is Javille, I am the head of this Guild house. What do you seek, travellers?"

"Greetings," Sicarius said. "I´d like to keep this as secret as possible but I have some items that I would like enchanted.

"Ah!" Javille said. "Very good! That happens to be my specialization!"

"Let us continue speaking in your office, shall we?" Sicarius asked. "The matters are extremely secret."

"Yes, yes. I see. Follow me."

* * *

"So you are in fact fighting a cultist guild?" Javille asked. They had spoken for about forty minutes, discussing, drinking tea, and Sicarius was beginning to like this man. He could be a very useful contact and friend.

"Yes. And as I said," Sicarius said and took a sip of his mint tea. "I need the mages guild to help me enchant the equipment."

"And you are telling me that otherwise this guild will enslave us?"

"Probably, yes. There is more to it, but I am afraid I cannot reveal anymore secrets just yet."

"I see. Well then, let us discuss the payment."

"So you will help us?" Sicarius asked eagerly.

"Yes, we will." Javille smiled.

"Name your price." Sicarius said. They had a lot of gold to spend, saved over the centuries.

"On behalf of the guild I require ten thousand gold septims." Javille said and emptied his cup in a gulp. Cyra gasped. So did Cowen.

"Deal." Sicarius said. "But you must promise not to ask any questions, my friend."

"So it is."

An hour later, the guild was awake, and working in the hall. Cowen and Cyra handed the armors and weapons on to the tables, and Javille informed the mages what enchantments they would add to the glowing white plates and swords.

"Resistance to magicka." He shouted. "On every piece of armor, and the swords shall have the ability to damage magicka. Is that clear?"

The mages worked for about three hours, and Sicarius, Cyra, Cowen and the blades watched with awe as the group of twenty or so wizards enchanted the items. It was lovely to watch, a great synced ecosystem of mages and items. When they were done, Sicarius ordered the Blades to unload the sacks of gold from the second cart. The enchantments were paid in septims and golden items harvested from caves and forts centuries and even millenias ago, treasures which had been in the blades possession for a very long time. But sacrifices had to be made, and this was for the safety of Sicarius army. This was needed. Many wizards asked where Sicarius and his warriors had gotten such armors and weapons, but Javille hushed them.

"They pay and we do. Nothing complicated with that." Javille told a young high elf woman asking about the mithril. She walked off to join her companions in lunch.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Javille said. "You must be hungry! Please stay for lunch!"

And they did. Even if Sicarius thought it best to be off as soon as possible, food was welcome. The blades were hungry and hot soup was never as good as when you are really starved after a long journey. They laughed and ate with the mages, who were really friendly and welcoming. Sicarius made many new aqcuintances that day. But eventually time came to return to Summerstone.

The ride back was tiring and boring, but at the same time, they rode with triumph. They had their armors, and the next day they would definitely look for the second part of the armor, the breeches. The mythic dawn might already have found them, but they were fewer and not as powerful as Sicarius blades.

When they began to come closer to Summerstone, Sicarius noticed something. Pillars of smoke. Big amounts of smoke. He hurried his horse and ordered the others to do the same, and they rode as fast as they could to the mansion. It was horrid. When they reached Summerstone, it was already too late. It was just a pile of smoking rubble, stables, barracks, the mansion, everything was destroyed.

"NO!" Sicarius shouted. He jumped off his horse and ran towards the house. He could not understand what had happened. Then he noticed someone sitting by a tree a distance away. Eryn was covered in blood, a sword in her gut. She slowly raised her head at the sound of steps.

"Eryn! What happened! Don´t die!" Sicarius sat down by his friend. He could feel tears burning behind his eyelids at the sight of the dying wood elf. But this was not a time of crying.

"The cult..." She coughed. "They...have the helmet...and...the chestplate...they stole the boots.."

"By..Akatosh..." Sicarius fell to his knees. Why? Why hadn´t he listened to Eryn? If he had, this would never have happened! He had acted to spare the lifes of his soldiers but he had lost a friend. No! It coulf not be true. He punched himself to wake up from this nightmare, but all that happened was that his chest hurt. He sobbed.

"Sicarius.." Eryn whispered. "Sicarius!"

"Don´t die..." Sicarius whispered.

"You...are strong...and smart...you have..." Eryn coughed again. Blod spilled out on the ground. "The brain...of a Septim...you must act now...defeat the mythic dawn...much stronger than we had expected..."

She smiled one last time, and whispered; "You can save Tamriel..."

And then she was dead. Sicarius could almost not hear the shouts of the blades as they saw what had happened.


	11. Chapter 11

Sicarius was going through a lot there, as he sat on the ground, cradling Eryn. He pulled out the sword from her lifeless body. It had a message carved in it.

_With love from M._

The words burned in his eyes. Milielle. He hated her with all his soul the first thing Sicarius was going to do when he had destroyed the Mythic dawn was to behead her, and then he was going to stick a pole through her wretched vampire heart. Or maybe he should spare her life but banish her, place her chained to a cliff with silver chains, letting the vultures feed on her, and then he was going to...

Cyra put a hand on his shoulder. The touch warmed him, and he cried. The Mythic Dawn had somehow gotten information about where they were held up. Then he remembered the Elder Scroll. He placed Eryn on the ground and rushed up.

"The elder scroll!" He shouted. And without waiting for answer nor aid, he rushed staright into the smoking ruins of Summerstone. He knew exactly where he had hidden it, he just hoped, hoped with all his heart that they had not found it...

He ran up what was left of the stairs and opened the hatch which looked like the stone wall surrounding it, and stretched his hand in. It made contact with a cylindrical object. With relief he pulled out the scroll and returned down. The remaining Blades were either sobbing or scavenging through the smoking rubble for survivors. It was with sorrow in his heart that Sicarius gathered his remaining warriors.

"It is disastrous, what has happened. We lost people. Some of us even lost loved ones." He shot a glance at a young Dark Elf with sadness in his eyes. "I have discussed with Cyra and Cowen, and we have decided to seek refuge at Cloud Ruler temple. Grand master Baurus will certainly welcome us there. And another thing. The Mythic Dawn stole the boots of the Trickster. Our only chance is now to recover the breeches and the Lance before they do. But enough of that, let us take our leave. There is nothing left here to see."

While the party once again and for the last time left Summerstone, Sicarius began thinking about how the Mythic Dawn could know that Sicarius and the blades were at Summerstone._ They have spies everywhere,_ he thought. _And one of them might actually be riding with us right now. _He decided to keep that in mind for later. Now, all that matters was to get to Cloud Ruler Temple, and to continue the heist for the Armor of Alessia. He feared that the Mythic Dawn had enough parts to bring great destruction already.

It was with great sorrow that the remaining residents of the once so lovely Summerstone manor travelled through the terrain of Cyrodiil on their journey to Cloud Ruler temple. Most horses were dead or had escaped during the fire, but some remained. Those horses were packed so heavy that already after a few hours, sweat glistened on their bodies. The other things had to be carried by manpower.

By nightfall, they camped. Just a small distance from the road, yet bug enough to spare them from eventual bandits. They could easily fight them off, Sicarius knew, but he preferred not to risk any more lives than needed.

"What do we do?" Cyra asked. She sat down crosslegged in front of Sicarius on the opposite side of the campfire.

"I don´t know." He said. "But one thing is for sure. We are going to recover the armor and make the Mythic Dawn pay."

"That sounds like a good idea to me." Cyra said. She tasted the soup, and with a grimace she forced it down. Sicarius poked around in his bowl. A few small dry fishheads floated around in the light yellow liquid. If he had not been so cursed hungry he would surely have just thrown him away, but he swallowed it all. It was terrible. But it filled his belly nevertheless, and he would need it for tomorrow. He was going to meet grand master Baurus, and then he and the Blades of Cloud Ruler temple were going to recover the armor...

And before he managed to think anymore, Sicarius fell asleep, warmed by the campfire.

After the last hours of wandering in the Jeralls, with a stop in Bruma for food and water, Cloud Ruler Temple could be seen towering parched high up on the mountain.

"This is it!" Sicarius told the other Blades.

That evening they had food in the great hall of Cloud Ruler Temple. It was not until the meal was finished and everyone was tired and fed that Baurus showed up. He was a man around sixty, a redguard with grayening hair and tired but wise eyes. This was the same man who had worked with Sicarius father and grandfather.

"Good evening, Sir." Sicarius said.

"Same to you, Sicarius Septim. Oh, you sure do look like your father. You have his wits, but your mothers optimism." He said.

"You knew my mother?"

"As a matter of fact I was one of the few who did. She was a beautiful woman, and strong. Yes, she was. She was a Nord, tall and fair, and great with a sword. Yet she fell to the daggers of the Mythic Dawn. By that time you were only an infant, Sicarius."

It was odd to hear about his mother. At the same time it was stimulating. And it was something new that he had Nord blood!

"Let us skip this, if I may, and speak about the armor. I have been in contact with your Blades for a long time now, so I know everything about the armor, but I need to know where we can find the breeches and the spear."

"Yes, of course." Sicarius said. He grabbed the Elder Scroll from under the chair and folded it out.

"Let´s see.." He said. He spotted the location quite fast. "The wreck of the Hammerhead. It´s a shipwreck!"

"It seems so indeed.." Baurus said. "We´ll continue the search tomorrow."

Baurus was about to rise and take his leave, but then he remembered something.

"Oh, yes, thats right." He sat down again. "You recovered Mithril equipment?"

"Yes, we did. All of my Blades are equipped, and it is enchanted as well."

"Impressive."

"I was thinking of giving them a name. They are my personal guard after all." 

"Good idea!" Baurus said, and he poured up some ale in a tankard, one for himself and one for Sicarius.

"I have been thinking of The White Cloaks."

Baurus was quiet, looking at Sicarius with a sceptical look on his face.

"Now, I´m going to be serious with you. That name is awful! They are not even wearing cloaks!" Baurus laughed, and he spilled some beer. Sicarius joined in, and for a moment they forgot the terrible things that were happening around Tamriel and just laughed.

"My personal suggestion is the White Swords."

"That is a good suggestion!" Sicarius said. The name represented both the purity of the Blades and the color of their swords. "So be it!"

Sicarius announced the name of his Guard the next morning, right after they left for the Hammerhead, and the Breeches. They answered with raising their swords and bowing to him. Sicarius knew they trusted him. He hoped, hoped insanely much that no one of them had to die. But he knew. Deep in his heart he knew, and they did too. This was war. And people die in war.


	12. Chapter 12

The Hammerhead. Once a proud and stout galley of the Redguards, moved over to Cyrodiil for maintenance, but now just a wreck. The lesser army of about twenty, including Sicarius and his commanders, white-clad warriors stopped their horses in front of the enormous marvel

"This is one beautiful ship!" Sicarius said and jumped off his mare.

"My ancestors sure knew how to build ships!" Cyra said proudly. Sicarius admired her patriotism. He reckoned that his men would need it in these times of horror and bloodshed.

The ship was half-buried in the muddy ground, a great galley built in heavy wood. The masts shot out of the ground like ferocious claws. Only the front of the ship could be seen, Sicarius imagined that he rest of the ship, the underground parts, were still accessible, and the Breeches would surely be down there somewhere.

"Alright!" Sicarius shouted to his warriors. "Behold, the Hammerhead!"

"Now," He continued. "Take it very carefully when you search the ship. The floorboards are rotted, the mud pits might be deep, and of course, the crabs and rats are dangerous as well. Now that you know that, we shall begin searching for the Breeches of the Dragon Empress!"

The soldiers cheered and raised their swords, and carefully they approached the ship, weapons ready in case anything lurked beyond the surface of the wreck. But then, something happened. Five, no seven, no, ten, twenty figures garbed in red swarmed out of the shipwreck, waving with axes and daggers, shouting. They were the Mythic Dawn. It was a trap. Sicarius panicked, but after a while he calmed down. He knew that they could defeat them.

* * *

Chaos erupted as the White swords tried to fight back. Swords and axes clashed, and men of both sides died, although not as many White Swords as Mythic Dawn cultists. Sicarius shouted commands, and his small but impressive army fought with incredibly effiency and speed. Even though some of the Swords died, two, to be exact, the Mithril armor fended off any unwanted magic attack, leving the soldiers unharmed. The cultists, on the other hand, fell like flies. Cowen slashed out with his blade, cleaving one here and dismembering one there, Cyra stabbed and gutted cultists after cultist, shrinking their numbers each second.

A cultist rushed towards Sicarius with frightening speed and slashed out with her axe. Sicarius parried in the last second, but the power brought him down to one knee. He saw the womans red eyes glowing, she bared her teeth and snapped for him. Sicarius was being forced down on the ground, and the vampire drew her dagger.

"You will never defeat the Mythic Dawn! Lady Milielle has almost every part of the armor! And now I´ll kill you!"

She brought the weapon down, but in the last second, she was stabbed through the heart by a White Sword. It was a Nord man, quite young, maybe seventeen. He had no helmet, his short blonde-brown hair and blue eyes shone in the morning light. He was dressed in the mithril armor, under it he had a woolen tunic. He lit a flame in his left hand and scroched the face of th vampire. It shrieked and covered its burnt eyes with its hands. That gave the nord a chance to attack again. He pulled out the sword of the creatures heart and cleaved its head. Sicarius noticed something weird. She had a string around her throat, with a bone tied to it. It looked weirdly like a...Finger bone? Sicarius understood that this vampire woman was one of Milielles commanders. And this was Sicarius fingerbone. She would have used it to open the Container with the Breeches. He pulled it off her, and stuffed it in his pocket. Weird, he thought, taking back your own fingerbone from someone else.

"Are you alright there, sir?" the Nord asked.

"Thank you!" Sicarius gasped. "I..I owe you my life, young man! What is your name?"

"The name´s Jaryc, if it does matter, sir."

"Thank you, Jaryc!"

"No problem sir, but we´d better begin fighting back."

"Yes, of course!" Sicarius said. He stood up.

"These are vampires." Jaric said. "I know how to kill them. Just slashing them is not enough, you have to stab tehir hearts or cut their heads off."

"Yes, I thought of that. But it looks like the men have already figured that out."

The White Swords were pressing back the Mythic Dawn cultists. Sicarius and Jaryc were fighting a few cultists, stabbing, slashing and beheading vampire after vampire. This was going very, very well. At last.

When the last vampire cultist had been cut down, the soldiers inspected and killed any enemy survivor. That was when Sicarius began to wonder if the Cultists and simply been at the same place at the same time as Sicarius and the White Swords, or if the failed ambush had actually been planned. Just when he had decided that it had just been an unfortunate happening, a though struck him. What if the leader of the Anvil mages guild, Javille, had known something? Both him and Milielle were Bretons, and the man seemed a little..suspicious. Maybe, maybe, he was part of the Mythic Dawn. That seemed quite likely, since many Bretons were part of the cult. But why hadn´t he killed off Sicarius when he was there? Was it because the entire mages guild would know? Or wasn´t Javille sure that it was the Sicarius they had been looking for? The only thing Sicarius knew was that spies were everywhere. And Javille was most surely one of them.

* * *

Sicarius pressed his remaining hand to the surface of the stone coffin. He, Jaryc, Cyra and two blades had made him company down to the bottom of the ship to find the Breeches. There had been a few rats and crabs down there, one of which had nipped Sicarius painfully in the left leg, but most were killed by the cultists previously. But apparently they hadn´t had the time to open the coffin with the Breeches, since the White Swords had showed up.

Light spread like lightning over the hard surface of the coffin, from Sicarius hand. It shuddered once, then it was silent, and dark again. With some help from Jaryc and Cyra and the White Swords, they removed the lid, and inside, they found the Breeches. They looked like any old, rusted breeches, but Sicarius knew these were part of Alessias Armor. These were the Breeches of the Dragon Empress. He knew what power these contained. They granted the bearer incredible stability. It was impossible to press down anyone wearing these, Sicarius knew. And they were also immune to fire, like every part of the Armor. Now, they would have to find the Spear of Alessia, or as it was called, Dragontongue.

Outside, Sicarius held up the Breeches of the Dragon Empress, to the amazement and cheers of the White Swords.

"Swords!" Sicarius shouted. "We have defeated this minuscule ambush of cultists, and recovered the Breeches. We only need the to find the Dragontounge, the spear of Alessia, and then we´ll have the power to defeat the Mythic Dawn!"

The warriors cheered, and chanted "EMPEROR" while raising their swords rythmically. Sicarius smiled, but a shadow loomed in his mind. He knew that only the Breeches and Spear would not be enough to defeat Milielle and the Mythic Dawn.


	13. Chapter 13

Sicarius Tenebra knew what was coming. War. It was inevitable, and the Blades had already gotten a taste of it two days ago, during the Battle of the Hammerhead. Even though the White Swords had been successful, they might not always be. Maybe the gods had granted them this victory as a trick to lure the Blades into thinking they could win against anyone. The thought haunted Sicarius mind day and night.

That afternoon, the soon-to-be emperor gathered his small council in the hall of Cloud Ruler temple. Jaryc joined them by the long table. Sicarius decided that this man could very well lead an army if he was asked to. Cyra, Cowen and Baurus were there too.

"A war is coming." Sicarius said, and took a gulp of a tankard filled with mead.

"Yes. We can´t avoid it." Baurus answered.

"Many will die." Sicarius said. "We can´t defeat the Mythic Dawn when they have got so many parts of the armor and we only have the breeches."

"Our only chance is to as fast as possible locate the spear. The Cult lost the battle of the Hammerhead, and while they try to recover from the loss, we might have enough time to obtain the spear." Cyra said.

"I suggest we find the spear, as Cyra said, and then we gather every able warrior and march against the Mythic Dawn." Cowen said.

"It is impossible to locate the cult." Sicarius objected. "They might be hiding anywhere, last I saw they were in the sewers. And there is no way our soldiers can fight down there. It is to dangerous."

"Might I suggest something, sir?" Jaryc spoke up for the first time.

"Yes, of course."

"My suggestion is that we obtain the spear. Then, as Cowen said, we put together an army, and then we´ll wait. Surely, the cult must come out in daylight sometime."

"So you mean..." Sicarius said. He thought for a while, and then he underdstood the plan, which was quite good. "We wait for them to come out and then we ambush them?"

"Roughly, yes. But there´s more to it. As long as they have the rest of the armor, they are stronger. But their numbers are small and we can grow stronger." Jaryc said with great charisma. "If we inform the citizens of Cyrodiil about this nasy plot to enslave Tamriel, they might side with us."

"Our army will outnumber theirs. A good plan, Jaryc." Sicarius said. "We will first obtain the spear, and then we will recruit more soldiers. We will just have to make sure no Mythic Dawn Spy joins us."

* * *

The meeting proceeded with locating Drangontongue. It was, as expected, the last part of the armor,

and so the most complicated to obtain. It was located in an ancient fort in the Colovian Highlands, fort Westpine. It had once been a secret hideout of the long line of emperors, beginning with Alessia, where they could find refuge and safety during times of war and disasters.

Sicarius, Cyra, Jaryc, two blades and two White Swords set out, everyone mounted on able warhorses. The trip would take a good amount of hours, but they had water and food so the seven warriors would never have to stop for refilling. They rode for five hours straight, guided by a piece of parchment showing the location. They passed several settlements, many of whom were scared by the sight of the riders, and hurried inside to lock their doors. _Locked doors won´t be enough when the Mythic Dawn attacks,_ Sicarius realized. So many civilians would die. _No. _He shook the thought away. _Not if we defeat the cult. No one has to die._

The ruins towered before them. It was one big wonder, and the seven riders could actually feel that this place was closely related to the royal bloodline. The place shone with a certain kind of aura, striking both fear and awe in the party.

The fort was parched on a cliff, like a gargoyle on a churchtower. Sicarius knew that the spear Dragontongue boasted extreme powers. It was said that the one who held the spear held the key to the realm. If that was so, he had to make sure the Mythic Dawn did not get it.

They bound their steeds to a tree closeby. It was actually more of a gnarled bonelike organism than a tree. They ran their whetstones over the sharp edges of their swords one final time, and they knew, that whatever was in that fort would not be in one part when Sicarius Tenebra and his warriors were done.

The dark tunnel opened up in a chamber about as large as the hall of an inn of significant size. Similarily to the first dungeon, where Sicarius had found the Boots, it was dimly lit. small oil lamps lined the walls. Three doors stood before the warriors, one in front of them and two to their sides.

"This way, maybe." Jaryc said and took a step inside the room, stopped for a second and continued walking to the door on the right. He grabbed the handle, and turned it slowly. Immediately, Cyra knew it was a trap. She flung herself forwards in the blink of an eye and managed to shove her Nord fellow out of the way just as the giant blade lashed out and as quickly fell back into the darkness again. Cyra, who had fallen on top of Jaryc stood up, and helped the nord up.

"Thank you.." He panted.

"That was quite foolish." Cyra said.

"Cyra is right," Sicarius said. He lit a torch on one of the oil lamps and handed it to Cyra. Then he lit one more. "We need to stay close to each other. That blade there was just a taste of what's to come."

"Sorry.." Jaryc mumbled and stood up.

"Oh, don't be!" Sicarius said. "We all do mistakes. Luckily you managed to survive this one. But you might not be as lucky next time."

Sicarius handed Jaryc the torch and waved to the four soldiers behind him.

"Follow me. We've got some dangerous stuff in front of us. Now, which door shall we try next?"

They tried the door on their left, but it just led to a small storeroom with old sacks and a dusty skeleton impaled by wooden stakes. They decided to take the door in front of them. In front of them was a corridor. Carefully, the party put one foot in front of the other and made their way slowly through the black tunnel, guided by the light from the torches. If there was something called "dungeon crawling", this was certainly what Sicarius Tenebra, Cyra, Jaryc and the soldiers were doing right now.


	14. Chapter 14

Eventually, the narrow tunnel widened up and the party of seven stepped out into a dark room. They could not make out exactly how it looked, their vision was limited with the torch light only shining so far. By looking around, Sicarius found a small pedestal with a hole. It was filled with black liquid smelling like...Lamp oil? Without giving the thing a second thought, he put his torch to the liquid. For a second, nothing happened at all. Then, the liquid burst into flame, and through some sort of system it lit a hundred other oil lamps, filling the room with a golden light. The once black room had turned into the marvelous hall the party had ever seen, with pillars supporting the rocky roof, carved with symbols and pictures mapping the history of the empire.

"By the gods.." Cyra gasped.

"Marvelous..." Jaryc said and let his eyes linger on the pillars.

"What is it?" A white Sword asked.

"This, dear friends," Sicarius said. "Is the throne room of Alessia."

The seven made their way through the throne room, slowly walking. Every step they took felt like walking through the different eras.

The throne was massive. Carved out from the mountain itself, all seven could feel a mighty aura emanating from the large stone chair. Gray, hard and cold it was.

"That is the throne of Alessia the first." Sicarius said enthusiastically. "This was her hideout!"

"It's...Amazing!" Jaryc said.

"I think so too." Cyra said. "But we've got to keep looking for the spear, okay?"

"You're right." Sicarius admitted. He gathered the six warriors in front of him.

"Alright. Here's what we'll do. Search the entire throne room. Leave no dusty particle unturned. We need to find the spear as soon as possible!"

And with that, the search of the spear Dragontongue began. They spread out in the room, touching everything and moving every loose stone to find the legendary weapon of the Empress Alessia.

* * *

"If you think about it," Sicarius said to Jaryc. They were tag-teaming to find the spear in a small storeroom in the end of the hall, without any luck. "This fort belongs to me. I am Alessias bloodline."

"Well, it is quite an honor. To speak with you, our emperor. I never even expected this." Jaryc said and smiled a little.

"Oh, don't be stupid." Sicarius said. "You don't have to adress me with those funny prefixes. It is quite alright, Jaryc. I don't find myself more worthy than you and the other warriors. I just happened to be emperor, that's it."

"Happened..." Jaryc laughed. Sicarius joined in, and they left the room without success, but with a good moment of light and happiness.

They were met by Cyra.

"We haven't found anything yet, Sicarius."

"I wonder if we are ever going to." He answered. Then he got to thinking of all the people that would die because of him not being able to protect them. Sicarius Tenebra needed the spear.

"I thought that maybe there is some sort of hidden mechanism somewhere, revealing a hidden chamber or something." Cyra continued.

"That might be. In that case we really need to go on searching. We have food for another day, but we've also got a long journey home in front of us. Keep on searching, I'll try and see if there is anything by the throne."

Sicarius walked to the throne, leaving Jaryc to help Cyra. He touched the hard surface, ran a hand across the back of it. He traced the symbols and shapes of the stone chair. And eventually, he sat down on it.

He, Sicarius Tenebra, a boy found on the streets, now the soon-to-be emperor, was sitting on the Rock Throne. This was where Alessia used to sit in times of war, when she was thinking out plans and assembling her armies. It was a mighty feeling. When he had sat there, staring across the dusty, torchlit room, he felt a switch clicking. Of course! A hidden mechanism of some sort was in the seat of the chair. A pressure plate. From the hidden effect of the pressure plate, a button appeared, protruding from the right armrest. This was the moment.

He touched the button slightly, wondering if this was a good idea. He decided that, yes, it was, and then he pressed it. Sicarius could feel the throne moving backwards, dust shooting from the ground as the chair advanced.

The six other persons immediately reacted, and turned to watch as the chair slid backwards to reveal a staircase down into a dark tunnel.

"I think I've found it." Sicarius said, a little shocked.

* * *

The seven warriors ventured down into the dark tunnel, step by step, steel unsheathed in case anything would try to attack them. Sicarius suspected that there had to be some sort of monster down there, if the spear was there. The tunnel ended, and there was a cracked old wooden door cutting it off from whatever was on the other side. Sicarius felt the handle, and of course it was locked. But it didn't matter, the door was so old and withered, Sicarius just gave it a rough kick and it smashed into pieces that rained to the ground in a cloud of sawdust.

"Let us go inside, then!" Sicarius said, hoping. Hoping, that they would find Dragontongue in here, and that this trip had not been yet another delay, a chance for the Mythic Dawn to take up arms and march on wherever they intended to destroy first.

The room was quite small, with small lit candles lining the walls, spreading light over the skeletons scattered across the floor. There was an ornate altar with a coffin at the far end.

"This must be it, dear warriors!" Sicarius exclaimed. Isn't it fantastic! Now let us open the coffin!"

With firm steps, Sicarius Septim approached the altar. How he had waited for this! Oh, the joy that spread through his body as he put his hand on the coffin. It shuddered, and a blue light spread from inside for a split second, then it was all dark again, except for the torches and candles. With his right hand, Sicarius grabbed hold of the lid, and shoved it aside. It was heavy, but that did not stop Sicarius.

"Warriors," He said. He was looking at the six persons standing a few metres behind him. "Behold the.."

"What?" Cyra asked after a few seconds. "Behold what? Is the spear there or not?"

"It's here, alright.." Sicarius gasped. "But we might have to deal with something else first.."

He was looking straight into the cold eyes of a woman. Even though the movement was minuscule, there was no doubt, Sicarius realized, that the woman had just blinked.


	15. Chapter 15

Sicarius looked straight into her deep blue eyes. She was beautiful, yet somehow strangely discomforting. In any case, Sicarius Septim knew from the beginning that this was his ancestor, his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother or something like that. This was Alessia, the dragon empress. Her cold, dead hand was clutching the handle of Dragontongue, the most powerful weapon in Cyrodiil. Its powers exceeded those of, say, the legendary axe Wuuthrad. The light emanating from the razor-sharp blade told that the spear was still eager to draw blood. Sicarius bent down just a little more, to inspect something. Was it just his mind playing tricks on him, or had the empress just blinked? Surely, that could not have been the case, but he had to look. When he was just inches from her face, her hand flew up and grabbed Sicarius painfully around the throat.

"_Who.."_ She wheezed. _"Who are you?"_

Sicarius was turning red, hopelessly gasping for air but without success.

"_You are a Septim. I can see it in your eyes."_

Just when Sicarius head was going numb, he drew his dagger and managed to aim a slash at Alessias wrist. She let go with a roar. She stood up from the coffin as Sicarius massaged his throat and took big gulps of fresh air.

"_HOW DARE YOU COME TO MY TOMB! DO YOU HAVE NO RESPECT FOR YOUR ANCESTORS?"_

And with that, Alessia stepped down to the floor, raised her spear, and shouted.

"_Foh..Krah...DIIN!" _Her Thu'um took the shape of a light blue tornado rocketing towards a Blade, who was unable to dodge the shout and fell to the ground in a rain of ice shards. Sicarius watched in horror as Alessia finished off the second blade in just the same way.

"_Su...Grah..Duun!"_ This time, the shout was no more than a whisper, yet somehow Alessias body began to glow, silver energy traced the surface of her armor like snakes slithering through desert sand, and at once, she began wielding her spear. With deadly quick movements enhanced by the Thu'um, she slashed and cut, parried and blocked and made sure nothing would reach her as she assaulted the remaining five warriors.

Sicarius Septim immediately reacted and drew his sword. With long movements, he spun around, slashed and tried with some luck to fend off the blows from Dragontongue with the shield strapped to his left arm. Somehow, he managed to parry the spear, flick it to the side and in a split second, he executed a perfect shield bash, staggering Alessia. She tried to regain balance, and at that moment, Jaryc decided to attack. He flew forward, sword raised. But the dragon empress was faster.

"_Fus...Ro...DAAAH!"_

Jaryc was thrown backwards and landed with a violent "Thud" on the stone floor, harmed but not anything lethal.

Cyra was inbound. With a roar of fighting joy she used the Redguard power of Adrenaline rush. She executed attack after attack in an attempt to break through Alessias defense, seemingly without gettng tired, thanks to her power. And eventually, she succeeded and she managed to cut Alessia deeply in the left shoulder.

"_Aaaargh!"_ She roared. _"How dare you!"_

"Do not take this personally," Sicarius said, advancing with his sword ready for an attack. "I just need to save the realm. It is about everyones safety."

"_Foolish child. Don't you see? You can't make everyone happy!"_

Sicarius parried a vicious stab and countered it with a violent swing, without success.

"_Whatever you do, there is no way you can save everyone. They will all die, just as me. You could just stop right now. There is nothing you can do!"_

"Shut up!" Sicarius lashed out and gashed Alessia in the left leg. "Shut up!"

"_You are weak." _Alessia was kneeling. But she sprang up again and managed to bash Sicarius to the ground. She sat on him, pressing his arms painfully to the floor with her knees, holding the tip of Dragontongue to his throat.

"_Don't move! Stay where you are!"_ She warned the White Swords, Cyra and Jaryc. They watched in horror, but did not move.

"Kill me then!" Sicarius shouted. "Kill me and have yet another hundred years of silence and death!"

"_Good idea."_

"But there will be more like me! In a hundred years, there will be at least five more like me!"

"_I should just put you to sleep right now, Septim."_

"You can kill me," Sicarius began. "But you can never stop the people from acting."

Alessia hesitated for a moment, and that gave Sicarius a split second to counterattack. He brought his right leg up and kicked Alessia in the back of her head. She roared in pain and dropped the spear to massage her head. Sicarius proceeded with wrestling her over. Now the tables were turned. He sat on Alessia just as she had done just seconds earlier. He grabbed the spear. It shuddered in his fingers, and a surge of power made it's way through his body. He held the tip to Alessias throat.

"I will never stop trying."Sicarius said. "Even if it means killing what is already dead."

"_Fus...Ro...Dah!" _although noticeably weaker than before, Alessia shouted Sicarius away from her, and stood up. She grabbed her spear.

"_You have proven worthy of Dragontongue. You are worthy my legacy."_

"What?" Sicarius said. He stood up from the floor and brushed off some dust from his clothes.

"_I salute you. You have the courage and willpower of a true leader."_

Alessia kneeled before him and held up the spear. Sicarius took it. Once again, he felt the surge of power running through it.

"I thank you, Empress Alessia."

"_You are the emperor now, Sicarius Septim." _Alessia stood up and bent forward, so that her mouth was just a centimeter from Sicarius ear.

"_If you are wise, you take my advice." _she whispered. _"Do not trust anyone."_

With that, the dragon empress walked back to her coffin, laid down, and closed her eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

"What do we do now?" Cyra asked back at the Cloud Ruler Temple. The party had arrives a few hours ago with the spear in Sicarius hand.

"What do you mean?" Sicarius answered her as he nimbly spun the spear around in his hand.

"Look," she said. She pulled him offside from the training area. "We cannot win this fight without some serious help. We have fifteen white swords and there are just about thirty Blades here. We don't know how many the Mythic Dawn has! They might be hundreds! And they have the armor, the boots and the helmet while we only have the breeches and the spear!"

"We have faith." Sicarius answered. "You are right. We don't have enough men."

"Exactly. So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Cyra. I fear for the outcome of this."

"Wait.." Cyra mumbled.

"What?" 

"You are the goddamned emperor, Sicarius! You _have _an army. You have the Imperial Legion!"

"You might be right..But how will we convince them that I am the emperor?"

"Well, there is the Elder Council.."

"No." Sicarius said instantly. "I can't trust them. Many of them have spoken positively about the increased daedra worship. It is corrupted. And as I have previously stated, we cannot convince them. Besides, they would hate it if there was suddenly an emperor to take away all their might and political power."

"Then I suggest a last cry of help." Cyra said stubbornly.

"What do you mean?"

"Call out to the people. Surely they would like to fight for their true leader!"

"Impossible." Sicarius doodled in the gravel with the metal shaft of Dragontongue. "The improvisal government has made Cyrodiil too good for that. All the rich lords and ladies have been granted to much power. No one dares raise a hand against them. Trust me, I have experienced it as a young rebel."

"You were a rebel?"

"Are you surprised? Let me continue." 

"Of course."

"Now, here's my plan." Sicarius said.

"Spies?" Baurus said.

"Exactly." Sicarius said. The small council was sitting in the hall around the table, drinking mead and tea. Sicarius sipped his cup of steaming hot spiced tea.

"But we don't even know where the Mythis Dawn cult is!" Cyra exclaimed.

"That's where the Dark Brotherhod comes in." Sicarius said. "They have a lot of contacts, and they are said to be able to find anyone for a pricely sum."

"And after we've located them?" Jaryc asked.

"We suprise them. We'll march with a small platoon of Blades to try and cause as much damage as possible. I'm talking about five, maybe six Blades on fast horses, myself excluded. I'll take with me the Breeches and Dragontongue and we'll see if we can steal some of the other parts. If we are lucky, they might be spread out in several small camps. That will make everything a lot easier."

"This is suicide." Cyra muttered.

"What are we going to do then?" Baurus asked. "Just wait for them to attack? To plunge the realm into war?"

"Everything would be so much easier if we had the Imperial Legion." Jaryc said.

"We cannot have them fight this war. It is too dangerous. What if the council is actually working with the Mythic Dawn? The council uses the Legion to exert their will and wipe out bandits and rebels alike." Sicarius said.

"Then we must hire the Dark Brotherhood." Cyra confirmed. "I'll see too it that they come here as soon as possible. I know how to summon them."

…...

Later that evening, Cyra knocked on the door to Sicarius chamber. She was holding two mugs of apple mead, the finest in Cyrodiil in her hands.

"Good evening, Sicarius." she said and handed Sicarius, who was writing in his notebook, a tankard.

"Good evening, Cyra. What's on your mind?"

"I don't wan't to ruin our friendship, Sicarius, but I had to tell this to you."

"Oh dear." Sicarius mumbled.

"Are you feeling well?" Cyra asked. "You haven't really been yourself these last few days. You've been... Paranoid."

"An evil Cult is pursuing me and the people of Cyrodiil. It is my duty as an emperor to stop them. I might have acted unusually, yes." Sicarius looked at the tankard reluctantly.

"It's not poisoned, Sicarius." Cyra said. Sicarius took a gulp.

"Death is always close, Cyra. And it scares me. If I die, what have I lived for?"

"You are taking too big responsibilities, Sicarius."

"That may be, but we can not let the realm be overtaken by these people!" Sicarius complained. "I, as the emperor, can not let that happen!"

"If that is so, I'll help you until the end, Sicarius. But please, do take breaks. Being an emperor is not always as easy as it seems."

With those words, Cyra left Sicarius by the fire in his Chamber.

The next few days passed quickly. They were filled with discussing, practising, training more men and preparing for the arrival of the Dark Brotherhood. The plan Sicarius had was a certain last resort, and could mean death if things went badly, but they had no other choice. Besides, he had Dragontongue. Sicarius had spent many hours practising with the mighty weapon. It had powers exceeding those of the strongest warriors in Tamriel. When Sicarius wielded the spear, power infused his body like a sort of adrenaline, his senses became sharper than the claws of a sabercat. The spear caused magical damage, too. Fire, frost and shock were forged into the weapon centuries ago.

It wasn't until the afternoon of the next day that the assassins arrived. There were three hooded figures on horses, seemingly one woman and two men. They approached Sicarius as he was having a stroll outside the temple.

"Good afternoon." The female assassin said, removing her cowl. She let out her beautiful blonde hair and her pretty face. She had green eyes. Judging by her looks and name, she was an Altmer. "I am Calraena, listener of the Dark Brotherhood."

"Are you...the Listener?" Sicarius replied in an interested tone of voice.

"Yes." Calraena answered. "As soon as I heard about this mission, I knew it was of extreme importance. Therefore I had to ensure my men do not fail this. We are at your service, your highness."

The three assassins bowed.

"Wait.." Sicarius said. "How do you know that?"

"You will find that the Dark Brotherhood knows a great deal of things, Sicarius Tenebra."


	17. Chapter 17

The assassins were put to work immediately. They had contacts, just as Sicarius had suggested, providing them with useful details and information, and soon they were on their way out into the wilderness to scout. The assassins began their journey to locate the Mythic Dawn.

During the long wait for the assassins to report back, the Blades and White Swords began practising even harder. Baurus even managed to get twenty more recruits from his contacts in Hammerfell, bowmen, who had practised pulling the bowstring since before they were even able to walk. They could shoot an arrow and hit a bullseye at first try, and immediately after they let a second arrow loose that pierced the first arrow right through resulting in another clean hit. They were pure warriors of heart and would not dissapoint Sicarius, Baurus ensured him. The more soldiers, the better, Sicarius thought.

The so called "army" was a small host of about a hundred men in total, excluding Sicarius, Baurus, Cyra, Cowen and Jaryc. There were twenty archers, a horse-cavalry of about twenty men and another sixty warriors afoot, of which some were armed with spears and some with swords. The twenty horsemen which were Sicarius very own White Swords were clad in shining mithril from head to toe.

Sicarius spent a lot of time alone in the Library of the Cloud Ruler Temple. He was plowing through book after book, reading every single page, absorbing the words formed by the curly letters. He was smiling to himself as he sat on a chair with a cup of steaming herbal brew. He was reading "The Lusty Argonian Maid", a quite shameful story, yet oddly funny at parts. Sicarius turned the page and to his horror he saw that he had nothing more to read. He stood up, sighing, stretched out his back and walked along the bookshelves slowly. He traced the covers of the books with his fingers, and stopped at a book which seemed particularily interesting. _Mixed Unit Tactics. _He decided to give it a chance, and soon he'd learned all kinds of information about leading troops into battle. Deciding that it would be handy, he put it in the pile of about ten books which he intended to read through a second time. Then, his eyelids grew heavy from all the reading and eventually, he fell asleep. His dreams carried him away from the library, from the temple, from Cyrodiil, Tamriel, from Nirn. And at once, he was in the burning planes of Oblivion.

He walked with slow steps on the cracked ground. Steam poured up from the soil in small clouds huffing about. The air was thin and hot and burned in his lungs as Sicarius made his way to the bridge. _I have to reach the bridge. _He told himself. It was a large iron structure with long claws shooting out from the edges and up into the crimson sky. Beneath it, a sea of liquid stone hot as the sun itself bubbled and hissed. But for each step, Sicarius fell two steps backwards. The holes in the ground around him began spitting out fire and lava. And the wound in Sicarius began spitting blood. Where his left hand should have been was just an open hole straight into his arm. Blood poured out of in a thick beam. The blood was a deep red. And soon, it took the form of a person. Out of the growing puddle, a person ascended. Completely hidden in black veils, holding a knife. She laughed, and as she did, Milielles red eyes stared into Sicarius green, and he could feel a cold fire burning in him. _Get to the bridge!_ He tried to shout, but he realized snakes of blood were slithering out of his mouth. He tried again, but only the sound of bubbling blood and Milielles laughter was heard. She raised the knife.

"Sicarius?"

"No!" He shouted. He was sweating furiously, his face was cold yet strangerly warm.

"Sicarius!" Cyra shouted again, shaking him. "Wake up!"

"What?" Sicarius asked. He was wide awake.

"Wake up!" Cyra laughed a little. "You were totally blacked out. Been sleeping for a whole day! And you were mumbling weird things."

"I had..a bad dream.." Sicarius said.

"You did?" Cyra asked.

"Nevermind, any news from the assassins?"

"They are here!" Cyra said. "And they've located several small camps!"

"Splendid! Let us go and meet them." Sicarius said cheerily and stood up. But the sight of Milielle holding the knife still haunted his mind as they left the library.

"Greetings, your highness." Calraena said and bowed. Sicarius, Cyra and Baurus had met her and the two assassins outside the temple, in the practising yard.

"Greetings. Do you have any news?" Sicarius answered.

"We do."

"Follow me inside." Sicarius said and led the three assassins into the temple's main hall.

"Here, and here are the two major camps." Calraena pointed at the map, on two places a little distance from Cheydinhal.

"And how many men were in each one of them?"

"Two hundred and fifty men here, in the first camp, and another hundred in the second camp."

"They outnumber us with three hundred and fifty men." Cyra said grimly.

"We have to act anyways. I will not sit here and watch my people getting slaughtered." Sicarius answered.

"What do you suggest we do ?" Baurus asked.

"I suggested before that I'd go with five or six Blades to try and quickly force my way through their defenses and reclaim the Helmet, Armor and the Boots." Sicarius said.

"It could have worked, if the Mythic Dawn didn't have so many bloody soldiers." Cyra frowned.

"Yes, it does look very unfortunate, at the moment." Sicarius agreed.

"But there's more," Calraena said, and pointed to a third cross on the map. "Right here, the Mythic Dawn has a hidden refuge, keeping about thirty men and the Helmet of Alessia.

"That sounds like an opportunity.." Sicarius mumbled, hope running through his body like the warmth from the crackling hearth illuminating the room.

"If we attack as quickly as possible, just charge in, slaughter as many of them as possible, we might be able to take back the helmet!" Cyra said excitedly.

"You are right!" Sicarius said. "Then that is what we must do."

"The camp is set by the Nibenay bay, right at the beach of the basin." Calraena continued, gesturing to a small spot on the map of Cyrodiil. "The other camps, as I mentioned before, are located some distance from Cheydinhal."

"You have served well," Sicarius said to the assassin, shaking her hand firmly. "Baurus, see to it that these Assassins get their payment.

"Oh, we wouldn't." Calraena said. "We gladly serve our true emperor. We cannot simply accept your coin, mylord!"

"But of course I shall pay you!" Sicarius said.

"I think not." Calraena said with a mysterious smile. "You will need the money to raise your army."

"I could not hope to win this feud without your help. You shall have payment."

"As you command, Lord Sicarius." Calraena smiled and bowed.

"You have my personal thanks, Calraena of the Dark Brotherhood. You shall not be forgotten." Sicarius saluted the three assassins, who answered the gesture with admirable formality and followed the Redguard Baurus for their payment. Just before the Listener exited the hall, she turned around. A suspicious but serious smile flickered across her beautiful face as she said;

"Who knows, someday I might get to assassinate you, your highness."

"Let us hope that I am a good enough ruler to prevent that." Sicarius said confidently. Calraena opened her mouth and closed it again in loss for words. She decided to just smile a slightly surprised smile and turned around, following Baurus out of the hall.

…...

"We will ride tonight." Sicarius said.

The fire crackled happily in the hearth, it's orange flames twisting and tugging at the pine logs at their feet. The heat they spread did not, however, seem to warm Sicarius Tenebra as he looked straight into the fire, consoling with his Redguard right hand, Cyra.

"That way we can reach the camp early tomorrow and take the Mythic Dawn by surprise, when they have barely changed from their bedclothes."

"A clever plan, Sicarius." Cyra admitted, and went to a small table by the wall, on which there stood a couple of tankards and a jug of ale. "But I ask you again, why don't we just take the Imperial Legion as is in the might of the emperor, and wipe the Mythic Dawn to Oblivion?"

"We?" Sicarius said, his face suddenly twisting into an expression of cold sarcasm. "I, and I only am the emperor. And just as I have clearly stated, there is no way we'll get the provisional government on our side. Besides, I do not intend to start a full war. That would just endanger the situation more than what is of my liking."

"I...Just..." Cyra sighed and emptied the tankard, swallowing the tasty drink in two large gulps.

"I..I'm sorry.." Sicarius said, leaning over the long table which was filled with scrolls and maps and parchment. "I don't know what has happened to me of lately.."

"No, it's okay, I don't.."

"It is not okay!" Sicarius complained with a sudden touch of fury in his otherwise so confident voice. "For all that you've done to me, I cannot simply act like this!"

Cyra tried to find the right words for the situation, but after a moments thought she just sighed and placed the tankard on the small table and walked over to the larger table.

"I think I am just very stressed out." Sicarius continued. "I haven't gotten very much sleep the last few weeks, and the little rest I've managed to dwelve into has been haunted by bad dreams.. And all this..Emperor business is just killing me."

"You need to rest!" Cyra explained. She put a hand on his back. "Go, now, and sleep. I'll take the command while you regain your energy, and we'll plan the attack when you wake up. Come on, the day is still young. You can take a few hours off, I reckon."

"No." Sicarius objected. "I can't sleep either. Too much work to do, too many lives in my hands. Can't sleep. Never."

"Just go already!" Cyra insisted. "Just do it! Don't you see, it will be easier taking care of...Well, everyone of you are well rested! I order you, go to sleep!"

"I have never doubted or questioned your opinions or orders. I admire your patriotism, your spirit" Sicarius said with a wry smile, still looking at the map. "I name you commander of the White Blades."

"What?"

"Commander," Sicarius confirmed, looking straight into Cyras deep Redguard eyes. "Of the White Blades. Go, inform Baurus, Cowen and the others about it while I..." Sicarius sighed heavily. "Take a little nap."

"I..." Cyra stammered.

"Go." Sicarius straightened up and patted her on her shoulder.

"Certainly, mylord!" Cyra bowed and took her leave, the proudness glowing in her eyes as she left the room.

Sicarius moved up the stairs slowly, with heavy steps, the exhaustedness clouding his mind. He opened the door to his chambers and sat down on his bed. He removed his boots and cuirass, and threw himself into the soft featherbed, letting the sleep grab hold of him and pull him deeper into unconsciousness, and for the first time in a very long period, Sicarius slept well, and for a good few hours, too.

…...

When he woke up, he knew he'd been sleeping for too long. The sun was as high as it would go this day, the midday warmth slipping into Sicarius bedroom through the opened window. He felt hungry, very, very hungry. He decided to see if the lunch had been prepared yet, so he stepped into his boots and walked down the stairs.

The courtyard was filled with sounds, laughter, speak and friendly voices as the residents of Cloud Ruler Temple had their late lunch outside in the glorious sun. Sicarius was handed a bowl of steaming hot stew, a piece of bread and a tankard of ale by the cook who greated him happily. Sicarius returned the greeting and located Cyra, Cowen and Jaryc sitting on the ground about twenty metres away. He joined their chat.

"..Oh, there he is!" Cyra said happily, waving to Sicarius, who nodded back with a smile, his hands full. "I wondered whenever you'd planned to wake up."

"I was woken up by this amazing sun!" Sicarius took a seat on the cobblestones in front of his companions.

"Might be so, but gods be damned, something more amazing is this perfect stew!" Cowen exclaimed, scraping the remains of the stew from his bowl.

"By Stendarr," Jaryc sighed, taking a sip from his ale cup. "He's been going on like that for the last ten minutes. Must be his third bowl, I reckon."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with some soup in ones stomach!" Cowen said.

"No, but when it gets that far, my friend.." Jaryc complained. Cyra and Sicarius laughed. He had almost forgotten how well it felt to laugh with those close to you.

* * *

"This is what we must do." Sicarius explained later that day in the great hall of the Cloud Ruler Temple. The rest of the residents were either out practising or doing other taks that needed completion, chores or hunting.

"We ride tonight. Late tonight." Sicarius continued. Cyra, Jaryc, Cowen and Baurus were watching and listening to their leader as he explained the plan. "Hopefully we'll reach the smaller camp early tomorrow and surprise them. They are only about twenty after all."

"Can we really trust the Dark Brotherhood?" Cyra objected.

"We have to." Jaryc said, with that glimpse in his eyes that was common with Nord warriors. "Commander." He added quickly as an act of formality. Cyra nodded approvingly.

"Jaryc is right." Sicarius confirmed, bending over the table to inspect the map further.

"I guess so." Cyra said reluctantly. "But I think we shall bring with us an additional few White Swords just in case."

"Then I give you the task of selecting a total of ten able warriors to follow you and me to the Mythic Dawn camp."

"Excellent." Cyra admitted, and gave a slight bow. Sicarius returned the gesture with a firm nod.

"Oh, don't leave yet." Sicarius said. "I just remembered something important. I wanted to thank Jaryc and Cowen for their support, and for your valor in battle, I grant both of you the options of becoming captains."

"Captains?" Cowen said, proudness and surprisement both showing in his face.

"You, Cowen shall lead a small patrol of horse cavalry, see to it that Baurus gets this immediately, it contains all the formal descriptions." Sicarius handed Cowen a small scroll of parchment. The Redguard bowed.

"Am I needed for further planning here, your highness?"

"You may go." Sicarius confirmed. "And you, Jaryc, if you want to, will be the captain of a small troupe of archers, all at your command."

"I..I shall not fail you, your highness!" Jaryc said proudly, accepted the scroll from Sicarius, bowed and left the main hall.

"May I say, you have raised your warrors morale quite a bit now, Sicarius." Cyra admitted with a confident smile hinting a touch of pride.

"All three of you are able men." Sicarius said.

"And women." Cyra corrected him with a smile.

"And women." Sicarius confirmed, smiling back at Cyra. "I suggest you go select the best ten of your warriors, inform them of their duties and make them ready for battle. We ride at sunset."


	18. Chapter 18

The sound of horses hooves thumping across the landscape, muffled by thick grass and vegetation was only one of many sounds greeting Sicarius Tenebra as he, Cyra and ten White Swords set out on maybe the most risky "quest" so far in their appempt to stop the Mythic Dawn. The destination was a small camp at the beach of the Niben Bay, which was defended by about twenty cultists guarding one of the most important treasures in the history of Cyrodiil.

The clappering sound grew slower and quieter as Sicarius drove his horse to a stop, and gestured to his companions to do the same. In a small grove of birches and shrubbery scattered across a twenty feet wide and broad area. This was a perfect place to hide the mounts; their dark horses were not only shielded from the eyes of travellers, and eventually enemies but the forest provided both hiding and food for the animals in form of all kinds of grasses and weeds.

The twelve warriors spotted the small camp in the distance. A campfire was blazing, as if it had just been woken up with fresh logs. Then at least one cultist must be awake, Sicarius understood. They sneaked closer, shielded by tall grass. Yet the sun had already, in this early hour begun to rise. And when it spread it's first warm and welcoming shafts of light across the field, Sicarius noticed to his utter horror that he had been betrayed.

Where Calraena and her assassins had told the small council roughly twenty members of the Mythic Dawn were holding camp, Sicarius could easily count over three hundred robed cultists, among horses and tents, awake but silent, as if they were awaiting something. Sicarius turned around and was about to order his soldiers to retreat when he was met by the horrible sight of five of his White Swords dead, and the rest, including Cyra, held captive with daggers to their throat. Just when Sicarius was about to do something drastic, he felt the cold touch of a freshly whetstoned dagger blade pressed to his throat.

"Keep that one alive." Sicarius heard a rough male voice grunt, as his captor pulled him to his feet and urged him to move forward by kicking him in the back. "And those six. We could do with a few hostages, easily."

Sicarius, Cyra and the remaining White Swords were taken to the campsite. They were kicked and bashed deeper into the complex of bonfires, tents and animal pens, when at least they reached a slightly bigger and slighly more formal tent. They were shoved inside, and went from having knives to their throats to having spears pointed at them. Sicarius felt a sudden urge to pull out Dragontongue and fight back, but he knew it was idiocy. He could not hope to survive for even a minute surrounded by madmen like these.

"Welcome, Sicarius Septim." a familiar voice said. A robed figure in the middle of the tent turned around and revealed herself. The vampiric features of Milielles face was etched inside Sicarius mind, it was no way he wouldn't recognize her. The woman who had claimed his left hand and wore it as jewelry around her neck, she who had plunged Cyrodiil into yet another horrible conflict, his worst enemy, his nemesis.

"I have been expecting you." another familiar voice said. This voice also belonged to a female. An elf. An elf by the name of Calraena.

"Why?" Sicarius pleaded. He fell to his knees on the floor.

"Well, she had more money." Calraena smirked, an evil grin flashing across her face.

"You scum!" Cyra shouted, trying to wrestle herself free from her captor.

"Let us claim those pieces of Alessias famous armor, shall we?" Milielle said and smiled, revealing her pointy teeth.

Sicarius sprang to his feet and tried to grab the spear fastened on his back, but the guard was quicker, and with remarkable strength, she kicked him in the back, resulting in Sicarius coughing heavily while squirming on the floor.

"Thank you." Milielle purred. "Now, if you are done, let us please get back to business, I have a tight schedule."

"What?" Cyra said.

"Tight schedule!" Milielle confirmed, a surprised smile on her flawless face. "You know, I'm in the middle of a plot here, a coup, you see. Tomorrow, hopefully, I'll march with my small army and take the Imperial City. Then I'll execute the Provisional Government and take the throne."

"But what about the Imperial Legion?" Sicarius asked, at last being able to breathe again.

"No problem. I'll be using the armor of Alessia, my dear. Nothing can defeat me." Milielle said. "And do you know what? We'll be keeping you alive as a living proof of what will happen to those who try to fight us!"

Milielle giggled a little, revealing her vampire teeth.

"You evil bitch!" Cyra spat, helplessly trying to wrestle herself free of her captors grasp.

"Easy there!" Milielle guffawed. She nodded to the guard holding Cyra, who quickly bashed her in the head, upon which the Redguard hopelessly fell into unconsciousness.

"What are you doing?" Sicarius gasped. "You can't do this! The people will stand up! And they'll-"

"-Most probably die," Milielle said casually, walking over to her desk and poured up a glass of wine. "The people can do nothing."

"I am not going to let this happen!" Sicarius screamed. "I'm going to fight you to the end! Come at me, you foul vampire, and I shall-"

Milielle nodded again and Sicarius guard beat him rock hard in the temple, resulting in a flawless point-blank knockout.

"That's better." Milielle laughed.

…...

Sharp pain. Darkness. More pain. Sicarius groaned a little. His back hurt and his face hurt. He slowly opened his eyes, the darkness dissapeared, and at once, he was in the Imperial City. In the Talos Plaza District, namely. First, he heard nothing. He tried, tried really hard to remember, remember anything at all. And slowly, it all came back to him. And then, the sounds came, like a torrent of sonic torture at first, and then his ears adapted and he heard the mumbles and occasional shouts from the enormous audience in front of Sicarius. He tried to stand up, and on wobbly knees he stood, just to be beat again, and he fell to his knees in a wave of pain. He saw Milielle, in all her vampire grace, and a whole lot of Cultists too. A line of them was standing as a guarding wall in front of Milielle and her closest commanders, pushing back any person brave enough to try and protest against the sudden scene. Sicarius tried to move his arms, but without success. Ropes were digging into his wrists. He saw Cyra at his side, also bound and unconscious. He tackled her carefully and tried to call her name, but she didn't wake up.

"People of the Imperial City!" Milielles voice boomed. There was immediate silence from the crowd. "I am Milielle! I have come to unveil the corruption of Cyrodiil!"

She waved to a cultist, who roughly brought Sicarius to his feet and urged him forward with bashing and kicking.

"What you see here is your emperor."

Mumbles and surprised chatting arose from the crowd as everyone tried to understand what was going on.

"He is the last Septim, and he was trying to take the throne, along with a small number of madmen, which we haven't, unfortunately, located yet. We saw fit to capture him and restore order to this loveable country!"

"Traitor!" Someone shouted.

"Cutthroat!"

"Usurper!" More shouts could be heard, but Milielle raised her hand and seemingly by magic, she calmed the crowd.

"I am no usurper. The usurpers are among you, dear people." Milielle boomed with a voice mysteriously amplified. "I am speaking of the Provisional Government! They have stolen your rights as people to have part in ruling this province!"

"What? No, that can't be!"

"Is she right?"

"I think that Breton has a valid point."

Several agreeing mumbles and shouts rose from the nervous and surprised crowd of citizens.

"Who are you!?" Someone shouted.

"I thought you'd never ask!" Milielle purred. "I am Milielle. This here, is the Mythic Dawn. We serve the Daedric gods, our masters, and they want nothing than for you to be part of a happy, righteous society, my dear."

"Daedra-lovers!"

"Bastards!"

"Still your fear, citizens!" Milielle roared. "Once I have taken the throne, I will sort out those who are a shame to our culture. I will apply a just ruleset to all of Cyrodiil. No one will be harmed if they do as we say."

"How are you going to fight the Legion?" Someone shouted.

"Good question. Well, the answer is equally good." Milielle pointed to a chest, which a servant dragged to her. "With the Artifacts of Alessia."

The crowd erupted into a choir of surprised mumbles and shouts of misbelief. Milielle heaved open the lid and lifted out the parts one by one.

"We used an Elder Scroll to locate these." She continued, ignoring the sounds from the crowd. "It was difficult, I'll tell you, but these are very, very dangerous. If they were to be possessed by the wrong hands, death would be ensured. This man, Sicarius Septim, tried to obtain the artifacts before us, claiming that we were dangerous and evil. But we were faster, and smarter."

"Liar!" Someone shouted.

"Pathetic pretenders!"

"Easy, easy!" Milielle said. "You will witness the coming of a new era, dear people. Today, we take the Imperial City. Tomorrow, we take Cyrodiil."

The crowd was silent, understanding that this was something very serious indeed.

"Those who support us shall have glory and reputation." Milielle continued. "Those who oppose us shall face the Daedric justice. Come forth, you who choose life over death. You will be welcomed as friends, as equals."

A moment went, then the first one came. Then another one, and soon, fifty people had aligned themselves with the Mythic Dawn. Yet the remaining hundreds stood fast.

"You have chosen well." Milielle ensured them with a smile. "These people have chosen us as their leaders. Their prize is not only their life, but wealth and comfort. You can have that too."

Another fifty persons, some reluctantly, some enthusiastically, joined the other fifty. A hundred, Sicarius realized to his utter fear. A hundred had chosen them, and not him as their leader. He would not forget this. But why would he remember? What was there to do now, more than to wait for his death?

"And now, I shall let justice strike down upon the rest of you. Last chance." Milielle said, and after those words, another seventy or so citizens aligned with the other hundred. "Very well."

The last two hundred citizens stood. One of them raised their hand, as a sign of protest. Soon, another one did the same. And one after one, the citizens of the Imperial City who had chosen punishment had their hand in the air, supporting Sicarius to their last moment.

"Thank you!" Sicarius shouted. "I will remember you! I will remember how we together stood up against the Mythic Dawn and-"

The guard had punched him, once again and he could feel blood running from his nose as he squirmed on the ground.

"Help me into this cumbersome suit of armor." Milielle ordered the nearest Cultist, who saw the chance as an honorable act and hurried forth to aid his mistress. Part by part, Milielle was armored, from the boots to the helmet, and lastly, the cultist handed her Dragontongue. She just stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, gathering the power. Sicarius knew he was finished, and so were the two hundred panicking citizens in front of him, and a lot more in due time.

"Today I stand as ruler!" Milielle exclaimed, as a surge of light shone all around her, tracing the magnificent armor which had transformed from rusty metal to a marvelous crimson-red suit of armor.

Milielle laughed loudly, her entire body shining with light. The people below her were panicking even more now, but her followers, the Mythic Dawn, watched in amazement as their leader gathered power for the slaughtering. They had succeeded in taking over the Imperial City. Not even the Legion forces which would soon come to aid the city would be able to defeat her. This was the end.

Yet somehow, it wasn't. As Milielle gazed on her weapon, readying herself for the first attack, Sicarius saw something flicker in her eyes. Just for a second, maybe, but there it was. Fear. It was definitely fear. And as Milielle experienced fear, Sicarius experienced hope. Just a little, but even so, his hope grew as Milielles body began glowing even stronger, and she fell to her knees.

"What is this?" she said with surprised fear in her shuddering voice. And at once, she burst. Her skin cracked and teared as paper on fire, and more light shot out of the gaps. With a roar, her body exploded into light and for a moment, everything else stood still. She burned. The armor fell to the hard ground, empty. Somehow, the power had backfired. And in that instance, Sicarius knew why. His instinct told him that the full armor in all it's might could only be worn by a true Emperor, or Empress. Milielle was not. The armor had refused her, destroyed her. The wrath of Alessia had destroyed Milielle. Without a leader, the Mythic Dawn followers stood there, mouths open. Sicarius saw his chance, and he sprang up, jumped towards the armor, somersaulted and then he was there, using the edge of Dragontongue to cut himself free. Part by part, he equipped the armor of Alessia, and as he grabbed Dragontongue he felt sheer power surge through his veins. It was like a kick of adrenaline, yet a hundred times stronger and it lasted forever. And to his utter surprisement, he saw that he had gotten a left hand. A hand of light, conjured by the armor. Sicarius laughed, a little unsure about it. He turned his hand over and looked at it, opening and closing it, laughing some more.

Then he turned to the Mythic Dawn Cultists.

"You have failed." he said. Then he ended his misery. With a single swipe of his spear, he called upon a shockwave of light, which cut through the cultists. Over and over, he repeated it, until the last Cultist was either dead or in the middle of trying to find their decapitated limbs.

"People of Cyrodiil!" Sicarius Septim boomed. "I am your emperor, son of Martin Septim, and I have destroyed this conspiracy. Cyrodiil is now entering a time of peace, a time of plenty and wealth. I shall see to it that the Provisional Government leaves the city at once. We shall celebrate for three days!"

And the crowd erupted into cheering, applause and cries of happiness and joy. The hundred-and-seventy citizens that had sided with the Mythic Dawn joined in, although very shamed that they had ever wanted to join the evil and foul cult.

By his side, Sicarius noticed that Cyra was waking up.

"Have I missed something?" she yawned, standing up. Then she saw Sicarius in the armor, and understood everything. He laughed. She did too, after a moment of trying to connect to the situation. Together thay laughed, and forgot everything horrible that had happened. Right now, there was only the joy of victory, and the joy of life.

That night lasted an eternity. And when it ended, and the morning sun spread its first warm beams of light over Cyrodiil, no one thought of the fearful events that had taken place last evening, which came to be called the Red Evening. They lived on as if it had never happened.

~The End~


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue

Two months after the Red Evening

The halls of the Imperial Palace were silent. All but for one sound, the noise of a quill on paper. Sicarius Septim, first of his name, Emperor of Tamriel was sitting on the throne, a writing board in his lap with a heap of letters that needed answering. They were all kinds of letters, really. Lords and ladies who wished to pledge allegiance to the Emperor, letters from people suggesting new rules and tax laws, letters from old, and letters from young.

It was very tiring. However, Sicarius never once regretted becoming Emperor. How he went from being a spice merchant to the most powerful man in the realm was a story already told many times over, around campfires, in taverns, at home, everywhere. Sicarius found it hard to be an Emperor, however. It was hard to make everyone happy. He had his council with him, people he trusted. People who helped him make hard decisions.

Cyra entered the throne room, and walked up the hall to the throne. Sicarius smiled at her as he noticed her.

"Good day, Cyra." he said. "Any news?"

"A bird came, with a letter." she said.

"Well?"

"Remember the Red Evening?" Cyra said politely.

"Of course I do, Cyra. Why do you even ask?"

"Well, we have a minor problem."

"Tell me more." Sicarius put aside the writing tablet and crossed his arms.

"When Milielle died.." Cyra began. "The people of High Rock lost a hero."

"What do you mean?" Sicarius asked. "She was a pest, a scum. How could she be a hero to anyone at all?"

"The Bretons saw her as a hero of the people, someone to look up to, to learn from. Back in High Rock, she was hailed as a very influental woman."

"Where is this going?" Sicarius asked, although somewhere, he knew the answer. And he feared it.

"Well, the people of High Rock are very upset and shaken by her death. And they blame it on us."

"Us?"

"Cyrodiil. And mostly, the Emperor." Cyra said.

"And?"

Cyra hesitated.

"The government of High Rock are with the people. They saw great opportunities in Milielle. They admired her. Respected her." Cyra said reluctantly.

"You aren't telling me..." Sicarius began.

"There might be a war ahead." Cyra admitted with darkness in her voice. Sicarius scratched his head, and then his chin. He stood up, and walked down the low steps from where the Throne was positioned. He looked into Cyras wise eyes, and said;

"If there comes a war, we'll be ready."

Cyra nodded, a confident smile on her lips. She knew Sicarius wouldn't back down. He'd _never_ back down.


End file.
